Lace and Shaggy Locks
by AuthorSwimmerPoet
Summary: LiveJournal 50 prompts challenge. Will involve random segments, mostly containing Victorique and Kujo.
1. Locked Up

**Author's Note: I recently finished watch Gosick; I loved it so much I couldn't resist writing a fanfiction for it. It is another LiveJournal 50 prompts challenge. I'm going to attempt to post them in order numerically but there probably won't be any chronology to it, although it did work out conveniently that this first segment happens before she meets Kujo. I'll have to see how inspiration strikes me for this one, for if it will stay numerical and if it potentially turns chronological. Sorry this first segment is so ridiculously short.**

001. Sleep.

Victorique shivers beneath the thin blanket, her only comfort in the cold dark cell. The moon beams faint light into the cell. It is hard and cold. The stone beneath her unforgiving.

She squints her eyes shut, an attempt to forget the world that she has been trapped in for so long. It is the only home she has ever been given, and she hates it. She craves a home of warmth, but that is not what she finds here. Here there is only hard stone, and the books her father has designated acceptable for her to read.

Her body shudders again, prying her eyes open, despite her wish to sleep. She feels control slipping from her, the shuddering shakes of her freezing body no longer within her power to resist.

Victorique lays on the hard stone floor and shivers. Illuminated by the moon, she freezes the night away. Sleep eludes her weary form.


	2. Buttercups

002. Love. Swapped for 054. Buttercups.

"Victorique!" Kujo's breathless voice calls as he races up the stairs. "I've got a present for you!" He arrives breathlessly at the top of the stairs, almost flinging himself to the ground as he tries to stop before crashing into the pile of books Victorique has left there. He is only partially successful, finishing in a messy sprawl on top of the books he didn't knock out of the stack.

Victorique's gaze flickers over to him. "Baka." She pronounces.

Kujo lifts himself from the stack of books, brushing himself off with accentuated nonchalance. Today he will not let Victorique get to him.

"What did you get for me?" She asks, her attention appearing to be on the book in front of her. She turns a page and waits for his response.

Kujo grins sidestepping the stack of books and kneeling in front of Victorique.

Victorique stares at him.

Still grinning Kujo presents a bouquet of yellow flowers with small round heads to Victorique. "Buttercups." He announces proudly. "My country doesn't have them. I thought you would like to see them too."

Victorique's expression hardens. "And why would I want them? I live in this garden, and they are flowers native to my home. Just because they are foreign to you does not make them special to me."

Kujo's smile falters. "Oh, I see." He sounds ashamed.

"Next time bring me a present to cure my boredom, or a life-threatening case you've involved yourself in. I won't see you again until you do." Victorique turns her head away from Kujo and lifts her chin. Her arms are crossed across her chest.

"I understand." Kujo murmurs a little sadly. He stands and reluctantly walks towards the stairs.

"Leave the flowers." She commands.

He nods, a bit perplexed and lays them on the stack of books.

Victorique waits until Kujo is descending the stairs. She stands up and walks to the buttercups lying on the books. She scoops them up, sniffs them and crushes them to her chest. No one has ever given her flowers before.

**Author's Note: It feels a little ridiculous to me that I had to switch prompts on this one, you would think "Love" would be a reasonably easy topic to write about for these two, but I just couldn't get my head around it for some reason, then I saw in the extra switchable prompts "Buttercups" and realized I could do something with flowers, maybe this could have been a Love theme after all, and I just needed a focus a little less general. I guess I'll let you decide.**

**Also if you're confused about the switching thing, along with the 50 prompts it provides 10 extra prompts and you are allowed to switch out up to five if you get stuck on a prompt.**


	3. Flick

003. Pain.

Victorique laughs and flails in her attempt to flick his forehead back.

Kujo remembers, as he darts out of the range of her reach, that she did not always laugh so easily, that once this was so painful to her that retaliation was her only option. Now she plays it as a game.

"Kujo!" She shrieks with laughter in her voice. She leaps to her feet, to chase after him more easily.

Kujo grins. Her hair, once golden, now silver, seems to float behind her as she chases him. He has always loved her hair.

He is distracted from the chase as he watches it. Victorique stands in front of him, she rises as high she can going onto her tiptoes and manages to flick his neck.

Kujo blinks in surprise before he begins to cough, his airway briefly affected by her attack. He rubs his neck wincing as the coughing subsides. "That hurt!" He wheezes loudly, reaching out to swipe at Victorique.

She dances away from his swinging hand. "You started it." She grumbles, all her mirth evaporating in an instant. Her cheeks are faintly red giving away her embarrassment at hurting him.

Noticing his scrutiny she turned away from him. She flattens herself to the ground and starts to roll.

Kujo laughs, remembering when she had done something similar years ago.

Victorique stops rolling and looks through her now messy hair at him. "What? I was bored."

His laughter doubles him over.


	4. Beaches

004. Sand.

Avril stared out at the water and kicked the sand at her feet dejectedly. This was supposed to have been her holiday on the Mediterranean with Kujo, but he'd decided to stay with Victorique at the last moment.

"I don't understand why he likes her." She muttered under breath. Of course she'd never seen the Golden Fairy, maybe if she had she would understand. And maybe it was better that she hadn't seen the Golden Fairy, so she wouldn't know just how ugly she was in comparison. "Why can't he like me?"

Tears pricked Avril's eyes.

"Is something wrong, Avril?" Her grandmother's kind voice spoke at her back.

Avril turned to look at her grandmother, but she didn't stand or even respond. She simply watched her grandmother. Her grandmother calmly returned her gaze, until Avril gathered up the words to speak. "I'm fine."

Her grandmother raised an eyebrow. "Really? You look lonely, without a friend."

Avril felt anger surge up in her. "I should have had a friend!" She shouted, "But he decided not to come at the last minute!"

Understanding lit her grandmother's eyes. "So that's what it is."

Avril turned away angrily and stared at the sea. "You don't understand Grand-mere."

"On the contrary," Her grandmother began as she sat on the beach next to her. "I understand very well. I was young once."

"Old people always say that." Avril grumbled.

Her grandmother chuckled. "That's because it's true dear, one doesn't reach my age, without first being yours."

Finally Avril felt her defenses weakening. She rested her head on her grandmother's shoulder and began to tell her about Kujo. Maybe she couldn't earn him any easier by telling, but it would be nice not to silently bear her hurt anymore.

**Originally this was going to be a Victorique and Kujo thing, since they had talked about seeing the ocean again together, but I was reading If You Loved Him by Meyumi-chan and that had Avril in it, and I realized that I could write about her too, the poor thing was always rather left out in the series, so it seems like I should be fair and not completely leave her out of this either. Who knows maybe this will produce an Avril story all its own. I kind of have ideas now. Hmm...**

**Anyways, just as a note, I used Grand-mere, because I was pretty sure Avril was french speaking and that's what grandmother is in French. Also I'm pretty sure I'm correct in saying that at this point Avril and Victorique haven't met. I'd have to rewatch that bit of Gosick to know for sure though. Anyways. Hope you enjoy.**


	5. Window

005. Glass.

Victorique stares at the stained glass window. _I'm bored._ She thinks. This is not a new sensation. She is almost always dreadfully bored. Only when Kujo comes, and sometimes when Blois comes is she allowed freedom from her boredom.

The window is very pretty, lots of bright colors for the light to shine through in rainbow waves, but it wasn't particularly interesting. Victorique is not interested in beauty unless there is a mystery attached, and stained glass windows are no mystery.

Idly she turned her eyes away from the window. Her gaze wanders to the top of the stairs, tracing the bit of banister visible from where she sits. She wishes Kujo would come racing up the stairs some new mystery for her to ponder on his tongue.

She sits and stares at the top of the stairs for a long time. She forgets even her boredom and simply stares.

Eventually she grows tired of this and realizes that her legs are beginning to ache. She sighs and rises to her feet.

Briefly her gaze locks on the window once more. It really is quite beautiful, like something out of a picture book. If only its beauty were enough to keep her attention, enough to drive the eternal boredom away. She looks away, towards the elevator. She makes her way towards it, and from there to her house at the end of a maze.

**Author's Note: I suppose technically after this I owe you a purely Kujo one too. Well we'll see if that happens. Frankly it's more fun when characters interact right? So you won't be mad if an only Kujo doesn't happen, right?**


	6. Church Bells Ring Are You Listening?

006. Church.

"You look lovely, Victorique." Avril whispered softly. Today especially she could see why Kujo had picked Victorique. She had always been pretty, like a doll, but today she looked less like porcelain and more like a model, the white gown fit Victorique more perfectly than anything Avril had ever seen. The sleeves were loose and lacy matching the flowing skirt. There was no train on the dress, but it wasn't really necessary as the style didn't wasn't something Victorique would wear. Victorique's strangely silver hair, seemed to shine, its brightness amplified by the whiteness of the dress it rested upon.

"Of course, farting newt." Victorique responded sounding grumpy. "Today is the one day loveliness is assured for any person."

Avril laughed, though she was pretty sure Victorique wasn't making some sort of joke. "This is just like old times!" She exclaimed and threw her arms around Victorique. "You calling me a newt and all."

Victorique merely grumbled under her breath. After a few seconds she pushed at Avril's grip on her. "Get off me farting newt."

Avril obligingly backed away; she paused only to straighten the muss she'd left in Victorique's hair. "Of course," Avril said with a smile. "This is your day; I shouldn't be bothering you, should I?"

"You should never bother me." Victorique sounded a little less grouchy now that Avril's arms weren't dangling around her.

"Come on V. Put on a smile." Now that it was so many years after their school days Avril's had taken to calling Victorique 'V', if for no other reason than that it was faster to say, and that every time she said "Victorique" she heard Kujo's voice saying it as well, and she tried to avoid painful reminders of her crush on him. In a sense the whole day already felt as if it were dedicated to that, and she was searching for ways to just be happy for the couple, instead of regretful that Kujo had not been so faithful and dedicated to her.

Victorique glared at Avril. "Go away. I don't need any more help."

_Still as stubborn as ever._ Avril thought, smiling slightly as she ducked out of the room. Apart from her now silver hair, the years had hardly seemed to change Victorique at all.

In the hallway Victorique bumped into Kujo. They bounced slightly away from each other, with a light 'oof' sound. "Sorry Kujo." Avril apologized, her lips were even turned in an apologetic smile. "I should watch where I'm going."

Kujo shook his head, not letting her take the blame. "No, I'm really distracted today, I should be paying more attention to what I'm doing."

Avril laughed. "Kujo, today is your day to act like that. You're getting married, you can't be faulted today."

Kujo joined in her laughter and shook his head again in disagreement. "No, just because I'm getting married, doesn't mean I shouldn't be careful about what I'm doing."

A voice called his name from the hall. "Well, I've got to go. Takes a lot of work to get married."

"I'm sure it does." Avril could feel her smile growing tighter on her face, as she strained to keep her expression pleasant. "You just hurry along and get married."

Kujo grinned and his fingers brushed her arm for a moment. "Thanks." He said though the word was really unnecessary, since it was his wedding day an all.

"Avril?" A masculine voice called for the opposite end of the hallway Kujo had just run down.

Avril glanced down the hall and grimaced. The voice belonged to exactly whom she thought it belonged to. Her date. Why she had thought it was a good idea to bring a date to Kujo's wedding, she didn't know. Or maybe she did and just didn't want to examine her reasons too closely, because it revolved around people's perception of her having moved on from her crush on Kujo, which after all these years she still clearly hadn't, even after all these years Kujo still didn't recognize the difference.

"I'm coming Marten, I just had to congratulate the bride." She called attempting to sound cheery as she walked down the hall towards him.

She could see Marten's smile as she drew closer and his outstretched arm, which he probably intended to wrap around her shoulder when she was close enough. She'd met Marten in the intervening years between school and being reunited with Kujo and Victorique and lately his favorite thing to do was walk around with his arm around Avril's shoulders. She wished she could like him as much as he seemed to like her.

"And how was the bride?" He asked once she was in a more comfortable range for speaking to.

Avril considered it a moment, she was now in his reach and as she had expected, his arm settled over her shoulder. "Not really what I would have expected. It's portrayed in books as nervous brides, and abruptly doubting if you've picked the right person...but she seemed calm. Sure of her choice." _And why wouldn't she be. She and Kujo have been together since our school days, even if we were all separated physically for a while._

Marten squeezed her shoulder gently as they began to head back towards the chapel where the ceremony would actually take place. "Do you think you'll be so sure on your wedding day?"

Avril stared at Marten. _That almost sounded like a proposal..._Finally she regained her senses enough to shrug in what she hoped came off as an off-handed manner. "I don't suppose I'll know that until I get there."

Marten nodded. Apparently finding this to be an acceptable answer.

They entered the chapel in silence and took their seats, quietly waiting for the ceremony to begin.

**Wow, I actually wrote a long one for once! So maybe almost 1000 words isn't a truly long piece, but it's definitely long for one of mine. Also it's probably safe to say after this piece, that Avril will more than likely be getting her own story after I finish these fifty prompts. I'd start it now, but then I'd probably never finish this one, and I like this one a lot, so the Avril story will have to wait.**

**(And ugh, still no purely Kujo piece, but I hope to create one someday, if only as fairness to Kujo since Avril and Victorique have solitary pieces...I just need to find the right prompt, to suit a solitary piece for him...)**


	7. Moon and War

007. Moonlight.

Kujo coughed from the cold. He pulled his thin blanket more tightly to himself. He'd never thought he could be this cold, but in the middle of warzone it was next to impossible to have enough resources for all the soldiers and many were without even a threadbare blanket like he had found.

The wind caught around his head for a moment and he shivered even more violently. He turned his eyes to the sky above as he had often found himself doing. Tonight the moon was bright and hung full in the sky.

Kujo stared up at it, wondering if somewhere Victorique was also watching the moon. It would of course be the same moon they both could see, but he wondered if she could possibly be looking at the same time he was, and if they were sharing a moment gazing at the moon without even knowing that the moment was shared.

"Victorique." He whispered. "Victorique..."

Something crashed and lights flashed in the distance. Kujo jumped. He'd been so lost in his memory of Victorique that the war had slipped his mind. He crouched deeper into his blanket, despite the cold he was not eager for the night to end. He'd rather sit in the cold dreaming of Victorique than fight in this war, but he would survive. He would return to his Victorique.

**Author's Note: So it's back short stuff :) I've been listening rather obsessively to all kinds of different versions of Prayer of the Children today, which is kinda came from, since it's partially about the effects of war, and I thought, hey, Kujo fought in a war...so that's sort of the inspiration of this brief little piece.**


	8. Impatient Reunion

008. Happiness.

"Wake up, he's supposed to arrive today." The voice speaks in only semi-recognizable French, but Victorique has been here for several weeks and is mostly used to the bad pronunciation.

She grumbles because of the hour, but Kujo is coming and she wants to be there when he arrives. She doesn't want him to have to wait for her at the dock. She is ready to wait all day, but she will be at the dock when his ship comes.

Victorique opens her eyes and waves away Kuju's sister. She doesn't need help dressing herself. Ruri smiles at the gesture, she is used to Victorique remaining mostly silent as she doesn't speak Japanese and Ruri's French isn't particularly good.

"I'll go set out some breakfast for us." She informs Victorique as she leaves the room. "Don't take too long dressing."

Victorique glares at Ruri's back. The clothes here are different than the dresses she grew up with, but she'd been dressing in them for weeks now, she knew how to dress and quickly in their clothes. She doesn't need snarky comments from Kujo's sister.

She almost takes a long time to get dressed just to annoy Ruri, but they aren't sure when Kujo's ship will arrive, so instead Victorique hurries so they can get to the dock as soon as possible.

Kujo paces the deck of the ship. He has been impatient for days now. The war is finally over; he is finally going home. But more importantly, Victorique has found his home, and she is waiting for him at the shore.

The prophesied winds have finally stopped blowing them apart, his letters reached Victorique and she found him. He is glad the storm is over. They both survived, their hearts were always intertwined, but it will be good to by each other's side again.

He will never be apart from Victorique again.


	9. I Heard it From the Cupboard

**Author's Note: For anyone who is confused about the context of this bit of story, it's during the time when Kujo first meets Avril. Or who he thinks is Avril anyways. This is the first time he catches the false Avril in the gardens at the top of the library. :) Also if the tears that are what the prompt is supposed to be based on seem a little out of place, I apologize. I had so much fun writing this bit, basing it almost entirely on sound instead of sight for once, the tears were lucky to make it in, in any form at all. Hopefully it's still enjoyable though.**

009. Tears.

She hears footsteps, slowly rising up the myriad of staircases that lead to her precious garden. Without the customary shout of "Victorique!" that Kujo announces himself with Victorique isn't interested in being seen by this person. She rises with a faint rustle of her skirt.

Leaving her spread of books in the half-moon she'd been reading from, she makes her way to the cupboard. She sighs giving the gardens a finally glance before secreting herself in the cupboard, with a click as the door shuts. It is a tight fit, her legs curled up against her chest, but it is better than being where someone will see her.

The cupboard smells almost of overwhelming of the sweets that are usually the only thing she needs to store there. Absentmindedly her hand slips into a bowl at her side and scoops up some lemon drops. She sucks on them quietly, the semi-sweet and sour taste calming her as she waits.

From the light click as each step touches the ground Victorique gathers that the intruder is a woman. So much the better for her to hide.

Victorique hears the woman speaking to herself and wonders what the woman is looking for, she wishes the wood of the cabinet were not so thick so she could listen properly.

Abruptly the prevailing quiet is broken by Kujo. "Victorique!" His voice calls.

Victorique's breath is pricked from her. "Kujo!" She whispers sharply.

There is silence as Kujo has apparently reached the top of the stairs.

Voices speak in muffled tones and once again Victorique curses the thickness of the cabinet. Eventually the conversation ceases, leaving only Kujo's call of: "Victorique!"

She considers her chances of leaving the cupboard and being seen by someone other than Kujo. She rests her face on her knee as she thinks. She is surprised to feel moisture spreading through the cloth touching her knee from tears she hadn't even known she was shedding.

She became angry. She was not going to sit in a cupboard and worry anymore. She was going to see Kujo! Fiercely she wiped away the moisture from her face and let herself out of the cupboard. The click of the cupboard is not loud enough to alert Kujo to turn around so Victorique speaks.


	10. Little Box

010. Writer's Choice.

Christmas.

"What's this?" Kujo asks, curiously handling the small wooden box Victorique has placed in his hands. It is small enough that he could close his fist around it without being visible and is painted in red and green stripes.

Victorique blushes and she almost sounds like she's sulking when she speaks. "It's something for you to figure out. I'm bored solving your mysteries. I thought it would be interesting to watch you struggle to solve one of mine."

"Okay," Kujo's curiosity is peaked. "Do I need to open the box to find out what the mystery is?"

Victorique makes an exasperated noise. "Aren't you smart enough for that Kujo? Opening the box is the first part of the mystery."

Kujo considers this while he studies the box. It does have any discernable ways to open that he can see. "Thanks Victorique." He says distracted and begins fiddling with the box, trying to find some way to open it.

Victorique rolls her eyes and stalks away.

Kujo rolls the box over and over in his hands. There must be some sort of catch or hinge but he can't see anything that looks useful in getting the box open. He grumbles to himself as he plays with the box. "There's got to be some secret to this."

...

Kujo puzzles over the box for days. He sleeps with the box by his pillow and stares at it during meals. Victorique begins to doubt he will ever solve and is frustrated that he is spending all of his time with it instead of her. She wishes she hadn't given it to him in the first place; he is too stupid to figure it out anyways. She hates that she wants him to solve it so badly.

...

"I don't understand it Victorique." Kujo holds the small box out to her. "I'm sorry. You'll have to tell me how to solve it."

Victorique glares at Kujo. "You're good for nothing." She snatches the box from him and easily slides a piece of it away. Something drops into her palm. She closes her fist around it. She thrusts the box back at him. "It slides."

Kujo takes the box back and studies it curiously. Now that it is open he sees that the paint cleverly hid the seams that would have shown him which piece moved. "What was in it?"

Victorique doesn't speak, but after a moment of angry silence, opens her tightly clenched fist.

Kujo leans over to stare at what she's holding. "Is that a snowflake?"

She smacks his head lightly.

He looks at her baffled.

"The pieces of Chaos still haven't been reconstructed in your mind?" Victorique asks rather scornfully.

Kujo sighs. He puts his hands together in a begging pose. He dips his head like a bow. "Victorique, please use your Wellspring of Wisdom and reconstruct this in a way my mind can comprehend."

Victorique sniffs disdainfully. "I don't need to use my Wellspring of Wisdom. I already know, Kujo. Have you even tried to figure this out?"

He opens his mouth to protest but she speaks over him.

Her voice takes on a bored monotonous tone. "This was a reminder. The box was done up like the wrappings of a present, using Christmas colors. The snowflake, made of crystal was another reminder of the season. Both together were supposed to be enough that even clueless Kujo would not forget to give me a present. I gave him a very valuable ring the last time we were able to celebrate together, and I expect an equal compensation from the present he gives me this year."

Kujo almost begins to laugh at her haughtiness, but he knows despite how she'd delivered the statement that she is sincere. "Did you think I would forget Victorique?" He asks trying to keep his tone inoffensive.

Victorique scowls at him and refuses to answer.

Kujo smiles gently. "Don't worry Victorique, I didn't forget you for Christmas."

She glances at him suspiciously.

He doesn't let the smile slip. He pats Victorique's head. "I've got something very special for you."

**This Writer's Choice prompt was giving me trouble, until I realized that it was almost Christmas and I could take an easy way out and write a Christmas piece. I hope you enjoy. Merry Christmas.**


	11. Tearfully

011. Cry.

The cell is lonely. Its darkness is only minimally penetrated by the faint light of the moon seeping in the solitary window.

Victorique whimpers as tears trail silently down her cheeks. She wishes she could sleep, but this is the one night a year she never seems to sleep, though for different reasons than would traditionally be expected.

It's Christmas Eve. Just like every other year that she can remember Victorique is spending it alone. She wishes she didn't even know about this holiday, but it is in many of the books she'd been provided to read. The holiday is a popular one, it's supposed to be a time full of family and giving, and the Christ story from the Bible, but all Victorique has every gotten out it is loneliness. She feels even more isolated on this holiday than any other time of year.

She curls up tightly in a ball on the floor, a hard book that doesn't mention Christmas clutched to her chest. She wishes the moonlight were bright enough for her to read by. Even the distraction of something she's read a hundred times, would be better than lying on the floor wrapped in her loneliness.

She closes her eyes tightly, trying to stem the flow of tears and fall asleep. If nothing else she wishes the night would end. Christmas is lonely, but at least there will be sunshine, which will bring some small measure of happiness.

Pressing the book tightly to her chest she passes another lonely Christmas Eve, finally falling into a light slumber as dawn begins to break into the cell.

**Author's Note: I'm a little frustrated that everything's coming up Christmas as I write right now, but I guess since it is the holiday season it makes sense that it's on my mind. It's just that I feel very uncreative when everything's got such similar themes, however silly it may be for me to think that...Anyways hopefully it's all still enjoyable :)**


	12. Breaking the Silence

012. Silence.

"Avril?" His voice spoke again.

It broke through her shock, but she wants to wish it all away. She wants him to take back the words he just said.

"Avril!" His tone is more frustrated and he waves a hand in front of her face.

She sighs. "I don't want to answer your question." She mutters.

"Stop acting childish." He commands. "You may have loved Kujo, but he's picked someone else. And I'm in your life now. I thought we got along well. So tell me Avril, will you marry me?"

She winced as he repeated the question. She didn't want to contemplate it. Didn't want to think about being with someone else. Everyone was telling her, prodding her, that she needed to move on. "But isn't your first love the hardest to get over?" Avril blurts the words out without really meaning to, but once they've left her mouth she doesn't regret them. The question is honest.

He smiles gently. "Avril, look at me."

She realizes she hasn't been meeting his gaze for a while now. She steels herself for a moment before letting her eyes rest on his.

There is a bright twinkle in his gaze; his eyes have always been full of so much life. She wishes she could capture that sort of feeling in her own. "Don't let him into your thoughts. So you love him, hopefully loved, past tense, but now I'm here. Do you want to marry me? Do you think you could ever love me, like you loved him?"

Avril took a deep breath and thought about what the answer could be.


	13. Beach

013. Sun.

The sand feels warmth beneath her mostly bare skin. She hasn't been to beaches often in her lifetime, and this is the first time she's come in a bathing suit, but she loves it. The sun shines down and heats the sand, warms her skin.

The moment seems a bright antithesis to all the pain and suffering it took to have this chance.

She keeps her eyes closed and pretends she is a flower gathering nutrients from the sun.

"Victorique." Kujo's breath brushes against her ear.

She smiles. Her hand slips across the sand until it finds his. She knots their fingers together. His hand is warm like the sand beneath them, though getting sticky with sweat from all the heat.

Kujo is quiet now, but the waves crash, keeping a peaceful rhythm flowing through her ears.

Victorique has never felt so relaxed. In moments of such stillness, ordinarily she would be filled with boredom, but listening to the music of the ocean, with the warm friendship of the sun and Kujo at her side is more than she ever would have dared life give her.


	14. SemiSongfic

**Author's Note: I have always wanted to do a songfic, but I am terribly unmotivated, so this is probably as close as I'll ever get. I was a little stuck on what to do for this prompt, because none of the Gosick characters seem particularly inclined to singing, I was able to resolve this when I found the "Ipod challenge" which seemed to suit the sing aspect at least in the sense that a lot of songs would be involved. If that's not good enough for you, feel free to complain, it doesn't mean I'll do anything to change this piece, but I'm sure complaining will make you feel better. ;)**

**This is how the Ipod (Mp3 player in my case...) challenge works: put your Ipod (music) on shuffle, and write a drabble for the first ten songs that come up. You only get the length of the song to write it. And you can't skip.**

**It was tons of fun and hopefully, the stories at least semi-match the song that was playing for them. If you're confused on any of the settings, message me and I'll do my best to clarify.**

**(Also isn't my taste in music ridiculously eclectic?) :)**

* * *

><p>014. Sing.<p>

1. Faye ~ Skylar Blue

_Victorique,_

_I have not forgotten you. I know that you probably won't receive this for a while. With the war it is hard to get the mail out, but I can't help but write. It helps me feel close to you. I know our spirits will always be close and that once this storm is over we will never be parted again._

_Don't allow this storm to break you. Stay the strong and wonderful Victorique that I remember. I will try and stay the same Kujo you remember as well, but this might be difficult because I am forced to fight in this war._

_I won't forget you and I promise I am watching for the day when I will see you again._

_I want to say more. Tell you everything. Even if my days are rather painful, but there isn't time. I have hardly found the time to scribble these few precious words that I will find a way to send you._

_I close my eyes and think of you. Each night I find myself with you, although for now it is just a dream._

_Close your eyes. I'm by your side and there I'll always stay._

_Just forever._

_Kujo_

2. The Cross ~ Within Temptation

Victorique stared out the window. It had been so long, this separation. Some days she lost hope of seeing Kujo again. The promise was that their hearts would be together, not that they would see each other again.

_I'm calling your name with all my heart._ She thought, her thoughts directed to Kujo. _My dear, Kujo-kun. I'm calling your name._

"Victorique." A hard voice calls.

She sighs and stands. Her father must want her again. She has become his puppet. She hates it, but she endures it, for Kujo's sake. She knows he must have pains to bear without her as well. If they bear them long enough, hopefully they will see each other again.

_One day, _Victorique promises herself, _I will break free of my father, whether I find Kujo or not, I will break free._

Determined, she follows the servant whom is tasked with returning her once more to her father's presence.

3. The Siamese Cat Song from Lady and the Tramp

"Do you like cats?" Kujo asks curiously watching Victorique's expression. She seems mildly perturbed by the cat that has taken residence in her lap.

"Has your family always had cats?" She asks her hands hovering awkwardly in the air; she clearly doesn't know what to do around the animal.

Kujo laughs. "Yes. They probably just needed time to get used to you and that's why you haven't seen any of them until now." He reaches out and gently strokes the cat's fur.

4. The Diary of Jane (acoustic) ~ Breaking Benjamin

Avril sighed as she looked out the window of the carriage. She'd gotten off the train a few minutes ago and now the carriage was taking her to her grandmother's seaside cottage. She'd wanted to take Kujo to this place. She wanted some time, just her and him.

But as usual, he'd picked Victorique over her.

She hated the ache he could so easily cause in her heart. She wished she could stop liking him. She wished a lot of things. None of it helped. None of it brought him here.

_At least I'll see Grand-mere soon._ Avril thought trying to remain hopeful. Her grandmother had always been successful at bringing smiles to her face, even at her most depressed moments.

5. Little Fall of Rain from the musical Les Miserables

"It's raining." Victorique held a hand out from the cover of the umbrella and let the droplets splash on her hand.

"It rains a lot here." Kujo responded, smiling at Victorique's naïve expression.

"I didn't get to experience the rain for many years." She whispered, watching the rain fall on her hand. "I was locked in a cell for so long."

"Now, you can any time it rains." Kujo promises.

Victorique turns her attention to him, her expression mildly indignant. "I know, just because we're married doesn't make me your slave. So obviously yes, now I can spend my time in the rain if I please."

Kujo chuckled, amused that she can still get so defensive.

6. Good Enough ~ Evanescence

"Victorique!" Kujo called racing up the stairs. "Victorique!"

Victorique kept her expression mild, but watched the top of the stairs, waiting for Kujo to appear. She wondered what he'd brought her this time.

Finally his head emerged, visible over the top stair. "Victorique!" He called again. The cry had barely left his mouth, when he tripped and bashed his chin into the top step.

Victorique hid a chuckle behind her hand, not to be polite but simply because she could. He could be so clumsy sometimes. "What did you bring me?" She demanded.

Kujo sat up slowly rubbing his chin. "You're not even going to ask how I am?" He asked in a mildly upset tone.

Victorique shook her head. "I can see you're fine, and you didn't fall far, if you'd rolled down all the stairs, maybe I would ask how you were. But clearly you're fine. My Wellspring of Knowledge dictates that a fall such as that would not be fatal to you."

Kujo stared, dumbstruck for a moment.

"What did you bring me?" Victorique repeated. "I'm dying of boredom. It'd better be interesting."

"I don't want to show you anymore." Kujo sulked, "You didn't even ask if I was okay."

"So?"

"It's the thought that counts!" He snapped.

7. Destiny's Path ~ John Williams (Memoirs of a Geisha soundtrack)

"What are you doing?" Victorique snapped in annoyance.

"I was hungry." Kujo mumbled, he'd pulled some snacks out of his pocket.

"All presents should go to me. You shouldn't keep things to yourself." Victorique proclaimed.

"Everything isn't about you Victorique." Kujo wanted to be gentle, but there wasn't really a nice way to point such a natural thing out.

"Nor about you." Victorique retorted. "The sweets should be mine!"

"These aren't even sweets!" Kujo argued. "It's just some crackers I had in my pocket."

"Your protests are useless. You owe me sweets." Now she was pouting.

"Stop acting so spoiled."

8. William Tell Overture

Avril watched the horserace fascinated. She wasn't betting on any of the horses, but the energy and excitement here was overwhelming. It was easy to forget herself while watching the race. It didn't matter if she was heartbroken as long as the hooves continued to pound the track.

It didn't matter that she'd received an invitation to Kujo's wedding as long as two horses were neck and neck for lead.

It didn't matter that she was going to go and feel more heartbroken than ever for going, because the race was at its climax.

Nothing mattered, because she could watch this race.

The race ended. A horse she didn't know won.

9. Awake and Alive ~ Skillet

Victorique can hear Kujo racing up the stairs before he even starts calling her name. Her face still pointed towards a book, she smiles. If he's coming he's brought a mystery or sweets, and both make her feel alive, especially, and she's reluctant to admit it even to herself, when either or both of those things is coupled with his presence.

Kujo is special. She knows it and hates to admit it. He's the most interesting person she's ever had a chance to interact with, granted there haven't been many people in her life, but he is the most interesting. His presence is almost intoxicating, almost a drug, almost as necessary to her as her own heartbeat.

She must push these thoughts aside though, because he comes, and above all she can't let him know he's important to her.

If he knew, he might leave. She would never risk that. She needs to feel alive.

10. The Horror of Our Love ~ Ludo

Victorique shivers as she reads the words etched on the page. She's read about murderers before, she solves murders when the need arises, but this story makes chills her.

The story is of a stalker, blinded by his obsession, he begins killing in the name of his love.

She doesn't know why the story strikes her as so eerie, but she doesn't like it. She wants to put the book down, throw it away, burn it in a fire, do anything but continue reading. Unfortunately she has no choice but to read it. Her father has demanded it. It is part of the storm separating her and Kujo.

There is nothing she can do, but to continue reading.

Victorique hates her father for this. She hates him for things he's done in the past as well, but in this moment, it is for reading this book that she hates him most. It even swells in a deeper hatred than him tearing Kujo from her.

She doesn't know why the book terrifies her so. If only she could bury it in the ocean!

If only Kujo were there to hold her hand as she read it.

Somehow just this idea comforts her. She finds peace.


	15. Pretzel

**So this one felt like it took forever to finish, and I apologize for that, even if it really isn't so many extra days. I've just been busy, of course with the holiday, and I've been doing betawork for Mod Soul and I've been getting things ready for my next semester of school...so ya, it's a miracle I've even got this much at the moment. And some day, I'm going to come back and make this piece longer and into what I wanted it to be when I started, but for now this is what you get. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

><p>015. Twist.<p>

"Kujo, where are we going?" Victorique tries to keep her tone from sounding like she's begging, but she knows she's probably not entirely successful.

"Can't I surprise you, Victorique?" Kujo asks, "It's a good surprise I promise."

Victorique sighs. She likes sweets and presents, not surprises, but Kujo is so determined that this be a surprise that she simply has to go along with it, arguing with him about it isn't making him any more open about where he is taking her.

They turn a corner and Victorique stops, breathless. Spread out over a previously empty section of town, that had functioned as a sort of park, was a fair. Rides and food stands had been erected, seemingly overnight, though Victorique was aware it had probably taken longer than that.

She turns to Kujo bright-eyed once she has overcome her shock. "We're going to a fair?" She queries unable to repress the excitement in her voice at all. "I've never been to one of these before!"

Kujo laughs to see her so ecstatic. "I know."

Abruptly Victorique composes herself. She clasps her hand calmly in front of herself, she meets Kujo's gaze, her expression solemn, the sparkle in her eyes the only things still betraying her excitement. "Thank you for bringing me here." She tells him in gracious tones.

Kujo grins enthusiastically and grabs one of her hands. "Let's go in already! What do you want to do first?" He asks after paying for interest and pulling her through the gate.  
>"I want to eat a pretzel," She answers seriously.<p>

Kujo stops and stares at her. "A pretzel? Are you sure? They're not sweet."

"I know." Victorique mutters a blush rising in her cheeks. "It's just..." She turns away, her cheeks growing even more red. "I've always wanted to try one, since they are so much the opposite of the sweet palate I love. Plus I've never had a chance to try them because of the forced shelter of my early years." She added the last bit in an embarrassed mutter.

Kujo grins, "Well if you want a pretzel, let's get you a pretzel."

Victorique is relieved that he did not laugh at her.

He squeezes her hand and they head over to the food stands.


	16. The Box

016. Empty.

Eagerly Victorique unsnaps the halves of the box from each other. She feels disappointment drop into her stomach as she sees that the box is empty. She had been so sure that there would be some sort of present within. She feels like crying as she stares into the emptiness.

She is not entirely sure why she wanted a present so badly, but this box is painfully absent of anything that could even masquerade as a present. She hates herself for the tears that begin spilling from her eyes. Angrily she swipes them away onto her sleeve.

She throws the box to the floor, refusing to let it steal her happiness anymore. She pointedly turns from it and begins to read a book instead. Her eyes trail across the page and she knows she is reading pointlessly, because already she's read the same sentence twice, but she refuses to let herself be upset. She is not going to about an empty box. She will not!

Her hands grip the sides of the book tightly as she struggles not to cry. This is ridiculous. It is just an empty box; she should not cry for something so trivial!

Knowing she's losing her resolve, Victorique sighs and pushes the book away. Her eyes travel to the box, lying innocently on the floor where she tossed it. Staring at it feels marginally better than avoiding looking at it, though it doesn't make sense that it would.

She stares at the hollow space where she had wanted some sort of present to be.

Hesitantly, she reaches out and picks up the box. She runs her fingers over the smooth surface. Even if it doesn't contain anything, it is a very nice box. The wood is almost soft and the hinge functions well without any squeaking or sticking.

Perhaps instead of receiving a treasure from it, she'll find a treasure of her own to put in it instead. This idea is strangely exciting to her. Creating something from the emptiness the box presented her, is much more hopeful than being dejected by its lack of contents.

Decisively she snaps the lid shut. She will find a treasure for her box, rather than it presenting one to her.


	17. Train and Field

017. Blossom.

Victorique stares out the window of the train eagerly. They are passing by fields. Wide open fields, full of blooming flowers. She loves to see so much color, so much life, passing right by her window. She wishes she could be out amongst the flowers, perhaps rolling in the grass as she stares up at them, but that is the only thing that could make this moment better.

Kujo watches Victorique and smiles. At times she may seem fragile and small like a doll, but today she looks alive. He's glad for the happiness that she is able to find in the simple things; it reminds him of the simple pleasures he sometimes forgets.

Suddenly Victorique turn from the window her bright eyes meeting his gaze. "Kujo-kun, let's come here again and picnic in those fields, okay?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea." Kujo agrees grinning.

Victorique nods firmly. "Be sure to bring me lots of sweets to eat." She commands.

Kujo laughs. Perhaps it should have bothered him that she was giving him commands for something so abstractly in the future, but he'd spent enough time with her, that her commands didn't really bother him anymore. He would have brought sweets, even without her asking.

Her face tightens as if she was about to glare at him.

"I just knew without you even saying anything that you would want sweets." Kujo clarifies quickly.

Victorique settles back in her seat looking mildly annoyed. "Good." She responds shortly. She turns and stares out the window again, looking now more like a doll than a human.

Kujo sighs, wishing his laughter hadn't upset her.

A little while later, when the fields have been overtaken by forest, Victorique asks softly, "Kujo-kun, do you like flowers?"

Kujo is surprised by the question. He stares at Victorique for several moments, his surprise so complete that he can't speak. "Flowers are nice." He finally manages to say.

Victorique gives him a look that more easily than words what she thinks of that answer to her question.

Kujo gives her a helpless raising of his shoulders in return. "I don't know what else I can say Victorique, that is my opinion. I'm sorry you don't like it."

Victorique grumbles incoherently. She crosses her arms and sits back in her seat looking unsatisfied.

* * *

><p><strong>So...uh...not exactly a pleasant ending, but I still like it better than my original idea for this piece which felt too much like I was copying the Buttercup chapter, and I hate it when my writing feels redundant. Maybe for one of the next prompts I'll be able to find a way to write a continuation of this so there can at least be some sort of happiness in the end. We'll see. For now, this what you get. I apologize for the not-so-happy end.<strong>


	18. A Harp

**If you like, consider this a sort of prequel to the previous chapter, since it was never stated where they were going on that train ride :)**

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><p>18. Harp.<p>

"You want to go to a concert?" Kujo asked incredulous.

Victorique crossed her arms in annoyance in front of her chest. "I want to hear music." She sulked. "I'm dying of boredom here with the books! Take me to a concert where I can hear music instead of just reading about it."

Kujo scratched his head worriedly. "Well...I don't know if there will be any concerts in town right now."

"Then find me a concert somewhere else." Victorique waved away his concerns. "I don't care if we have to travel by train for days. Find me a concert so I don't die of boredom."

"I don't know how easy this is going to be." Kujo protested, "Things like that can sell out easily."

Victorique stomped her foot. "I want to go to a concert!"

Kujo sighed realizing that Victorique was not going to relent. "Alright, I'll get tickets to a concert."

Victorique's mood swung to excite in an instant, but she quickly suppressed it. She nodded at him calmly. "Good." She sat her skirts poofing out around her. She picked up a book and tapped the hardcover. "See this?" She asks.

Kujo leans over her to get a better look at the cover. There appears to be a harp, surrounded by fancy mostly eligible gold shaded writing. "Okay," He responded, wondering why she was pointing it out to him.

"I've been reading this," Victorique explained, "it shouldn't require my Wellspring of Knowledge for you to realize this is the music I want to hear at the concert."

Kujo groaned inwardly. "It has to be a harp concert?"

Victorique nodded solemnly.

"Alright, I'll see if I can harp concert then," Kujo said feeling rather bewildered.

"You will find a harp concert." Victorique corrected. "That's what I want to see."

"Why does it have to be a harp? Is it just because of that book?"

Victorique nodded, suddenly silent as if she were embarrassed. Kujo leaned close detecting a blush on her cheeks before she whipped her face out of his line of sight.

Kujo grinned.


	19. At the Restaurant

019. Control.

Kujo pulls the chair out and gestures for Victorique to sit. With a polite almost haughty expression, she lifts her skirts and carefully sits down. He nearly begins to laugh at her solemnity but manages to restrain himself. It is her first time eating out at a restaurant and he is sure behind the act is wonder, awe and perhaps even nervousness.

Taking a seat across from her, the waiter arrives promptly at their table. "Good evening and welcome to the Fine Chateau, might I first interest you in something to drink?" He gives them both a quick but studious glance, "We have many fine juices and teas." He seems to have determined with that glance that neither of them is of an appropriate age to drink anything alcoholic.

"Anything you want Victorique, this is my present to you."

Victorique grins slightly at the word 'present', before giving her attention to the waiter. "I would like the sweetest tea that you have and you can skip all the meal nonsense too, we'll just be having cake."

Kujo hides his grin behind the menu, the present of going to a restaurant and a meal of only sweets, Victorique must have dreams about days like this. He doesn't even mind that she is basically ordering for him, since meeting Victorique he's found himself becoming less picky, particularly about things she wants to manage for herself.

The waiter gives a little bow of deferment, "Of course whatever the good madam wishes." He turns to Kujo for a moment, "Anything different I can provide for you, sir?"

Kujo shakes his head, even if it wouldn't have annoyed Victorique for him to order something else, he wouldn't have wanted it. She'd picked what sounds like a good meal to him.

The waiter presents them with another one of his little bows, "Very well. I will be back with your tea shortly, will you have selected a specific cake by then or do you know which you want now?"

Victorique's eyes widen. "There's more than one kind of cake here?" She doesn't seem able to have been able to stop the question from emerging.

The waiter nods obligatorily.

"We'll know after you've brought the tea." Kujo rushes in quickly, knowing that Victorique wouldn't want him witnessing anymore of her shock.

"Very well." The waiter repeats and backs away from the table.

"Kujo how many cakes do they have?" Victorique asks in an awed whisper, though Kujo is a little surprised she wouldn't have at least read about restaurants having extensive menus.

"Look in the menu." Kujo proposes.

Victorique looks down in front of her and almost timidly lifts the rather large menu.

"The desserts are on the back." Kujo adds. He gives her moment to look it over before he asks as casually as he can, "You've never read anything about restaurants having a variety of desserts or other items?"

Victorique's eyes flick up from the menu and present him with a flat stare.

Kujo smiles sheepishly at her expression. "It seemed like a reasonable question." He argued weakly.

"Reading books doesn't make me an expert in everything. Nor do characters in books usually list off what's on the menu before they make their selection." Victorique responds in a tone that is trying to be icy but sounds more like a sulk.

"I guess that's true." He unconsciously stares at the ceiling as he considers her response.

Victorique returns her attention to examining the menu.


	20. Victorique's First Present

020. Writer's Choice. Present.

Victorique lifted her head as the door to her cell opened. It was unusual for anyone to be visiting her, especially at this time of day. She had to cover her eyes slightly at the light that filtered in, it wasn't much brighter than the dimness of her cell, but enough that it bothered her eyes if she didn't allow them to adjust.

"Victorique," A familiar voice announced rather loudly, accompanied by the footsteps of someone entering her cell.

"Yes, Blois," She answered in a soft tone that still carried across the cell. Her brother was only slightly more interesting than sitting alone all day in her cell, but at least it wasn't her father come to visit. His visits were never a welcome thing.

"Victorique," Blois repeated stepping across the room. "You are old enough that Father has allowed me to present you with a present."

Victorique perked up at this, she'd never been given a present before. It sounded exciting; she'd of course read of such things in books, but taking her father's personality into account it hadn't seemed likely that she would ever be able to receive any. Figuring it was probably best not to seem excited because her father might be watching her reaction, she kept her tone neutral as she asked, "What?"

"I'm sending you to school."

Victorique couldn't contain her surprise and shouted, "WHAT?"

"It's a boarding school." Blois further explained. "However, there will be certain...restrictions, per Father's instructions of course." By which Blois was implying he'd have given her full freedom if he could have. Sometimes Blois was more alright than she would have admitted.

"Restrictions?" Victorique asked hesitantly, not sure she wanted to know what leaving this accursed place would actually entail.

Blois nods his expression almost ashamed of what their father is forcing on her. "He is sending you to St. Marguerite Academy. While it's a boarding school, you won't be boarding with the other students. He's having a...er...house built on the grounds for you to stay in, he expects you to make use of their significant library, much larger than what you've been provided here." Blois cleared his throat. "And under no circumstances does he want you to actually attend classes, too much risk that you'd begin befriending students, and he claims your duties to him are much more important."

Victorique stared a bit at her brother. It sounded restrictive, but it was also more freedom than she'd ever previously been granted. She glanced at the books at her side, _And a larger library than what I've been given..._Simply that was tempting. She'd grown tired of reading and rereading the same books over and over.

Blois cleared his throat one more. "As a final restriction you are to help me solve cases as the need arises. I've just been promoted to detective, and Father doesn't trust my judgment on its own. He claims that with your mind, it won't matter how clever I am."

Victorique stood slowly. She wanted to rush forward and hug her brother for the greatest and only gift she'd ever received, but she restrained herself. Almost sedately she stepped towards him. Once close enough she held out a hand. "I accept."


	21. Sick

021. Psychotic.

Victorique trembles and shakes, her body wracked by fever. She tries to sleep but seems only capable of slipping into a half-dreaming stupor where she is still fully aware of the trembling in her body and the ache of her continuously twitching muscles.

Her thoughts are awhirl with half-remembered and strangely mushed together murder cases. Not even her Wellspring of Wisdom can clear up this muddle for there is no logic to her fever dream.

Uncontrollably she begins to roll back and forth across her bed and faint moan escaping her lips with each new twitch of her body. With as much force as she can muster, Victorique stops her body's rolling, which only causes her legs to begin kicking and twitching uncontrollably. Through this fever her body has apparently gained a mind of its own and that mind wants to shake, roll or tremble.

"K-k-ku-jo!" She calls out suddenly as Kujo appears in her dream.

"There, there Victorique," He states and pats her head. "This is just normal. You should focus on the criminal we need to find."

Her eyes spring open, though this doesn't effectively end the dream. Kujo's voice still echoes in her ears. She cries out, the sound like a shriek and a moan at once. She curls into the fetal position and her hands begin obsessively running through her hair as if she has suddenly developed OCD.

"You're alright, you're alright, you're alright." Kujo's voice is creating a seemingly insane mantra inside her mind. "You're alright, you're alright..."

As she attempts to stop her hands repetitive gestures, they switch abruptly to clawlike shapes and begin racing up and down her face.

There are times when Victorique wishes she has a new body, was a different person. This is one of those nights.


	22. Hoping for Broken Boredom

022. Hope.

Victorique flicks another page of the book she is reading. She is even more bored than usual. The sky outside is dark threatening rain, but as it has threatened it all day, it doesn't seem likely that any rain is ever actually going to fall.

Idly she flips the next page over as well, without reading anything. The book is an excuse, something to pretend to be doing while her real action, waiting, occurs quietly behind it. There is no one watching her display but she continues the charade anyways. Blois is fairly notorious for showing up when she doesn't want him around, even if he always brings something to alleviate her boredom. Sometimes even their interesting she doesn't want to solve his mysteries for him, he has a brain, she wishes that sometimes he would just use it, rather than pouting to her all the time.

Another page, another flick. For a moment she breaks her studious pose and rolls her eyes to the ceiling. She shouldn't be kept waiting like this.

She shouldn't be waiting.

Her hand hovers over the page with this thought. When did she become so dependent? She'd always had boredom, but why had she started to expect that it could be broken?

Victorique stares at the page unseeingly. Her hand begins to tremble as she attempts to ignore her thoughts and lift another page. She shouldn't feel this way. The rules of her father's world don't permit it.

But now she feels that her boredom doesn't have to be complete. It's hard to return her thoughts to how they should have been. Having her boredom interrupted has changed her.

She quivers and hastily throws the book away. The book means nothing, has nothing to do with what she's thinking, but somehow it helps to do something physical. It lands with a faint thump, that isn't as satisfying as she expected it to be.

Abruptly she feels as if she'll go insane if stays sitting. She stands. Is the sky darker? She rushes to the window to inspect it, anything to attempt to distract her thoughts from unpleasant things.

She presses her hand to the glass in front of her. The coolness of it is calming. She closes her eyes and focuses on the smooth cold glass her palm presses against.

With her eyes closed she discerns a faint from rumble in the distance.

"Thunder," She whispers. Her forehead is pressed against the glass without her remembering the movement towards it. The cold begins to travel faintly through her, causing a brief shiver.

She wants to remain frozen this way forever. Frozen to the glass she would have no responsibility, no father to worry about, no brother to solve crime, no -. She refuses to complete the thought. Even acknowledging a world without feels like to much right now. If she gives him even that much acknowledgement her thoughts might stay with him, might reach out to what he represents and she can't think of that.

She can't.

Footsteps echo on the stairs. Her lips twist into a faint smile, though she knows she shouldn't be relieved by his return.

Her hope has returned, just as she knew he would. He was more predictable than the rain.


	23. Predictable

023. Alone.

Kujo races up the stairs.

"Victorique!" He shouts his usual greeting. "Victorique!"

Moments later he reaches the top of the stairs. He stops in surprise. Victorique isn't there. Her usual semi-circle of books is; Victorique is not.

Kujo stares, confused.

"Victorique!" He calls again.

No response.

Wondering what he should do, Kujo sits in the midst of her books, as she would normally sit. Half-consciously trying to get into her mindset to find her.

Idly he picks up a book as he thinks. He flips through the pages, not paying attention to the book, just letting his hands be active while he attempts to figure out where Victorique could have gone. The flutter of pages fans his face.

After a moment more of this he sets the book down with a sigh. Sitting in place of her isn't helping at all. He simply doesn't have the same mind for solving mysteries.

He stares blankly ahead for several moments before noticing the cupboard. It seems a stretch, especially as Victorique should have known it was only him, but she'd hidden in it before, so maybe that's where she is now.

Tentatively he makes his way over to the cupboard. "Victorique?" He calls one final time, hoping that she somehow simply didn't hear him before. His hands begin to shake as his expectation of what he'll find his nearly proven.

His fingers brush against the wood of the cupboard. _Please let her be in here._ He prays, and opens the cupboard.

Not surprisingly considering she hasn't responded to him, Victorique is not in the cupboard.

Kujo slumps to the ground. He is completely unsure of where he should look next. It simply isn't like Victorique not to be here. She is so predictable he isn't sure how to cope with her breaking her habit of sitting at the top of the library reading.

He wishes, vainly, for a Wellspring of Wisdom to lead him to Victorique. Briefly he even thinks the pointless wish of having Victorique here to solve it for him, but obviously if that were the case there would be no mystery to solve in the first place.

_What do I do?_ He questions desperately, not knowing who he expects to answer.

"Keep looking." He tells himself firmly. The storm that will separate them cannot be yet. He refuses to have let that arrive. He will find Victorique.

Not daring to do otherwise he keeps searching for Victorique.

* * *

><p><strong>Where did Victorique go? You can figure it out for yourself. Use your own personal Wellspring of Wisdom, cause I'm not telling! At least not in the piece. Maybe the answer will come up in a later one. We'll have to see.<strong>


	24. Moorings

**This chapter was a pain in the butt to write, which naturally is why it took so long to get posted, and I'm still not really happy with it, and yes the "Nostalgia" prompt is a bit of a loose fit, but it kind of went places I wasn't expecting, so consider this a sort of prequel to the "Pyschotic" prompt of a previous chapter. I forget which one exactly :P**

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><p>024. Viridian. Switched for 053. Nostalgia.<p>

Victorique can't sleep. The swaying and rocking of the ship is keeping her awake. The rhythm of the waves should have been soothing, but tonight it is only helping sleep evade her.

Sighing she slips out of bed, there is no reason to stay there, if she won't be sleeping anyways.

Feeling as if she is creeping through the darkened ship, she makes her way out onto the deck. She stares up for a moment at the dark sky before making her way to the railing at the edge of the deck.

Her hands clasp the cool metal, tightening into fists. Though it's dark and she can hardly see the ocean beyond its faint glimmer in the moonlight, she is reminded of that day so long ago, when she saw the ocean for the first time and Kujo promised to bring her back one day.

She doesn't want to be on the ocean alone. She wishes Kujo were here, fulfilling his promise to see the ocean again with her. She closes her eyes and lets the sea breeze play across her face and through her hair. She can almost pretend it is Kujo's hand against her skin, but his touch would warm, whereas the breeze is cool. Also she probably would have smacked Kujo if he had tried to touch her.

Tears creep down her cheeks, attempting to sneak all the way down her face, but their moisture is even colder than the breeze and Victorique quickly wipes them away. There isn't much point to crying over something she has no control over.

She stands at the rail, face to the wind, eyes closed, until her hand still gripping the rail start going numb. Realizing how stiff and cold she is, she trudges back to the interior of the ship and back to her room.

Once across the threshold of her room, her body begins to tremble and shake from the chill it is desperately attempting to recover from. The shivering becomes so bad that she cannot move, she hasn't reached her bed, but is forced to stand rather than regain her heat more quickly by curling up under the covers.

She is terrified by this uncontrollable shaking. She feels as if she has lost control of her body. She begins to whimper as the trembling increases. It becomes so violent, that she is tossed to the floor by it. Her head bashes against the bedpost as she falls, causing her to cry out in pain.

Her body continues to convulse on the floor.

She is surprised that no one comes to investigate her cry. Eventually the shiver does what it is supposed to and warms up her body, slowly but certainly the shudders wracking her body begin to calm.

Victorique continues to lie on the floor taking large gasping breaths as her body finally stills.

Slowly she reaches out and latches onto the bedpost. Feeling more confident with something to hang onto she managed to heave herself into a sitting position. She pants for a moment, feeling ridiculously out of breath and bit shaky, but not necessarily in the shivering way she was before.

Taking her time she lifts herself to her feet, leaning against the bed for support. Now that her shivering spell is over she feels unnaturally hot and sweaty. She doesn't want to think about it but obvious reason would seem to be that she is coming down with a fever, which would also explain the strange weakness in her limbs.

Finally she is able to collapse onto her bed, where she begins to quiver for entirely different reasons than shivering.


	25. Lack of Breath

025. Gasp.

Avril stared down at the water below. She'd never come to this cliff before, despite the number of times she'd visited her grandmother on the Mediterranean, and for very specific reasons. She didn't like heights. She wasn't exactly scared of them, but she didn't like looking down from them for long periods of time, or to consider jumping from them. Which was what had just been suggested she do.

"You'll be fine," The boy at her side urged. She didn't know him but there was a whole herd of boys that had cajoled her into playing with them. "Plenty of people have done and nobody's ever died."

_Oh right, that's comforting._ Avril thought sarcastically. _Just because no one's died doesn't mean that I couldn't at least end up painfully injured._ She glanced over the edge again and swallowed sharply.

She cursed her lack of adventurous spirit. Her grandfather had been an adventurer and she had always wanted to explore the world like he had, so why couldn't she make herself jump? To be a proper adventurer she would have to take far greater risks than jumping off a cliff into a body of water.

Still she hesitated, not quite able to make her body respond to her demands.

"Avril, come on it's fun." The boy begged. He actually began tugging on her hand in his earnestness.

Avril took a deep breath, steeling herself for what awaited her below. She had taken a small step forward to prepare for her jump when an elbow jostled her in the back. Her arms flailed and she went sprawling through the air.

Air rushed passed her as her body fell frighteningly quickly. Her heart pounded crazily in her chest. She closed her eyes to avoid watching the impact, then smacked into the water, her breath knocked from her. In whirl of bubbles she managed to drag her body to the surface, where she promptly gasped for breath as she clumsily treaded water.

Moments later, another body smacked into the water near her.

A boy bobbed above the surface of the water, grinning impishly. "You were never going to jump if I didn't help you out a little." He explained in a teasing tone.

Avril scowled and splashed water in his face.

In the water fight that ensued Avril managed to completely forget about her fear of jumping off the cliff.


	26. The Marquis, Briefly

026. Smirk.

Albert watches quietly. Leviathan's words still whisper in his mind, to find an extraordinary woman to mate with and create a child that could help him achieve his goals. Watching the woman before him, he thinks he has found what he needs.

The woman works as a dancer, probably as an attempt to disguise her identity, but Albert doesn't let that fool him. With her short stature, pale skin and blond hair she must be one of the fabled Grey Wolves.

Albert's hand tightens into a fist. He wants her. This woman, this dancer, she will be the reason for his success. With the child of a Grey Wolf at his side there is no way that he can fail.

The woman continues to dance, unaware of Albert's eyes, unaware of his plans.

He smirks with pleasure at the plans his mind his hatching with her at the forefront of them.

* * *

><p><strong>So this is pretty pathetically short. I apologize for that. But that was all of his mindset I could get, much as I wanted to play with it and see where it would go. Maybe I'll be able to come back to this piece some other time and add some length, or at least approach his character in a different piece. We'll see. Thanks for reading. (Also this marks the over halfway point for this project, since there are 50 prompts and I am now up to 26! So barely over halfway, but still it's a bit weird to think that I'm closer to being done than I am to the beginning of these stories.)<strong>


	27. Cordelia

027. Piece.

Cordelia examined her dark surroundings. She seemed to be in some sort of cell, with a high window that hardly allowed for any light. The floor was cold, made of stone, and she hadn't even been provided a blanket to wrap about herself.

She didn't know how she was expected to live long enough to bear a child for the insanse man if she didn't even have a means of keeping warm.

Grey Wolves had some amazing abilities but producing enough heat to keep themselves warm no matter what the outside circumstances was not one of them.

The chill began to creep into her and shivered. She hugged her arms tightly to herself in a vain attempt at trapping warmth inside herself. The shiver slowly started to overtake her body.

She looked to the ceiling as if that could grant her freedom from this trap. She casts a silent prayer to whatever god might listen that she can escape. Her child doesn't deserve to live a life of suffering.

She laid down on the ground giving up all hope.

The door behind her opened, spilling golden light behind her. Instantly she finds her feet and whipped around to face whoever was there, most likely to mock her in her captivity.

The Marquis filled the doorway with his menacing smirky presence. Cordelia wanted to turn away, but can't. Deep in her heart is the hope that he will give her some sort of partial salvation from this hole she'd been thrown into.

Head held high, she asked. "What do you want?"

"It's time again." He stated an icy calm in his tone.

Cordelia grimaced. He was insistent that until there was proof of her pregnancy they continue this. It wasn't the sort of salvation she had been praying for.

With a determined spirit to escape should the opportunity present itself, she follows the Marquis out of her cell.

* * *

><p><strong>If you're confused how this matches the prompt of "Piece" my thought was that she's a piece of the Marquis' plans and I'm sticking to that as my excuse for this.<strong>


	28. Fly on the Wall

028. Fly.

Cordelia watched from an alley as Brian performed a street show, purposefully flubbing his tricks, though she didn't know why he bothered with these antics. It was quite possible to engage in people watching without hosting elaborate ruses.

After a while she became bored with watching his failed tricks. Her eyes searched the crowds. She didn't expect to see Victorique, her precious daughter, but she liked to pretend it was possible Victorique would wander along these streets one day for her to see.

A boy caught her eye. He was dressed in a school uniform and wearing a pale gray hat. Cordelia watched him intently. A girl with short blond hair was practically dancing around him with excitement. It gave Cordelia an ache to see that blond hair. _Just like my Victorique's._ She thought.

Cordelia watched in amusement as the girl raced over to see what Brian was doing, the boy following belatedly behind her.

They arrived in time to see Brian pull a dead pigeon out of his hat. The crowd groaned and began to wander away.

The girl looked dejected at this.

The boy was briefly detained by Brian; because the magician stole the books he had tucked under his arm and produced a turban for him, that fit perfectly over the hat he was already wearing.

Cordelia chuckled.

The boy looked puzzled as Brian walked away until he realized Brian had taken his books and called him. Brian of course didn't listen. Instead of chasing after Brian the boy instead followed after the girl he'd been with.

Brian walked into the alley in which Cordelia had secluded herself. "Was that necessary?" She asked an eyebrow raised, as he approached her.

Brian winked at her. "A magician never reveals his secrets."

"Where are we going now that you've finished your street tricks?" Cordelia asked, staring up at him.

"Watch a moment longer in the street." Brian offered.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. Brian was useful to have around, but he could also be quite obnoxious at times. Obediently, however, she peered back out into the street, her eyes once more finding the boy Brian had given the turban. He had caught up to his friend and they seemed to be staring a collectable dish, at a stall being managed by a nun.

"Brian," Cordelia began.

"Hush," Brian stated, "Just watch."

Cordelia sighed, tired of all this secrecy.

The girl picked up a box, which suddenly exploded in a puff of smoke, to further add to the distraction pigeons, burst into the air, seemingly from nowhere. Their flutter and the cloud of thick smoke was enough of a distraction that when the air was cleared, the nun cried out and drew attention to the now missing plate. Cordelia eyed the scene suspiciously. Something was not quite right.

"Do you understand now?" Brian whispered, leaning close and speaking into her ear.

"We're following her?"

"It should be interesting to see where this nun takes us." Brian sounded amused as if he already knew what was going to happen, but he was a magician not a fortune teller so that was ridiculous to even contemplate. One day Cordelia could have the ability like the elders of Seyrun, but even she couldn't yet see where this woman would take them.

"Are you trying to get the plate?" Cordelia asked suspecting both what happened to the plate, and why they might need to chase the woman with it.

"Cordelia, I want you to figure this out for yourself, prove your brain is just as good as your daughter's."

Cordelia's gaze flicked away from the nun and up to Brian's face. He seemed sincere. Though she hated that the challenge seemed so much like he was simply using her. "Alright, I'll accept this challenge."

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry this took so long, school was keeping me busy and I was rewatching this bit of Gosick so it had the right feel. Also Brian and Cordelia are probably a bit OC but I don't care too much as we hardly see as much of their characters in the series anyways. How this relates to the prompt of Fly, at least in my head, is that Cordelia is watching the scene like a "fly on the wall" haha, I sorta made a pun, also all the birds in this scene fly, so you know...that's kind of appropriate too.<strong>


	29. The Mediterranean

029. Elope.

"Avril, it's so kind of you to visit me again." Her grandmother cooed holding out her arms and waiting for Avril to step into the embrace.

Avril smiled a bit hesitantly even though she didn't have any reason to feel so anxious. It was wrong to not want to have come, just because Kujo had decided last minute to come with her didn't mean that she had to be so disappointed to be with her grand-mere now. She let her grand-mere wrap her in a tight embrace.

Avril breathed in her grand-mere's familiar scent, something rather like peppermint, and tried to forget about Kujo.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" Grand-mere asked, leading Avril into her seaside cottage.

Abruptly Avril felt daring and almost willing to talk about Kujo, so she found a roundabout manner to get going on the subject. "What was it like to be in love with Grand-pere?" She questioned. Her Grand-pere had died several years ago of heart failure but it seemed like it could be a good way to weasling slowly into talking about her growing attachment to Kujo.

Her grand-mere smiled brightly. "He was a wonderful man. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced to know him, and to love him? I've never felt so strongly for a single person before or after him. Yes, I love the rest of my family of course, but the love I had for was a special thing, more unique and stronger than what I can truly describe." Grand-mere's eyes took on a misty nostalgic cast. "We eloped, you know."

Avril was surprised and truly interested now instead of merely wanting to guide the conversation. "Really? You never told me that."

"Oh yes, we did. It wasn't so much that our parents disapproved the match; we simply didn't want to wait. So we went to Paris and got married."

"At the Eiffel Tower?" Avril asked excitedly, eager to think of her grandparents as part of the structures history.

"Goodness, no, didn't you know that was only built in 1889?"

"Oh," Avril flushed embarrassed.

"We were married in a simple court ceremony, but it was enough. Or love decorated it with all the furnishing that young people seem so eager to toss up at a wedding's notice. We didn't need it. The simplicity suited us and the exploratory lifestyle we engaged in for the next few years."

Avril nodded eagerly. "Grand-pere was always an adventurer wasn't he?" It was after him that Avril had designed her own visions of exploring the world and adventuring through it.

"Always. To the very end." Grand-mere agreed softly. "To the very end."

* * *

><p><strong>Having not much homework due tomorrow, here's an extra chapter I jotted down, for your enjoyment. Thank you for your patience as I write these. :)<strong>


	30. Epidemic

030. Writer's Choice. Flu.

Victorique shivers and wraps the blanket more tightly around herself. She sniffles but is not so bad off as Kujo. He has the flu and can hardly stand it has made him so dizzy.

"K-k-kujo." She stutters through her shivers.

"Yes Victorique?" He answers, his voice sounds completely miserable.

"Come sit by me." She commands as she continues to shiver.

"Victorique..." He moans, "I can hardly move as it is and I finally got comfortable."

"K-k-kujo, please," Victorique whispers. "I want you close."

Kujo suppresses a sigh. Since they've been married oftentimes Victorique has been more demanding than ever, but he knows that she wouldn't use that tone if it wasn't truly important to her to have him nearby.

Shuddering and shaking, he slowly pulls himself to his feet, the dizziness whirls through his head causing him to sway precariously. He manages to catch himself on the arm of the chair he had been resting in.

Victorique lifts her head out of her bundle of blankets, "Kujo..." She begins.

Kujo shakes his head, causing further dizziness to sweep through him. "Not now. Let me get to you first." He manages to choke out.

She nods and obediently stays quiet, though she's biting her lip with what appears to be concern.

Taking shuffling steps, Kujo closes his eyes, to try and ease the dizziness a little. Surprisingly quickly, his shins bump into the couch and he goes sprawling forward, landing in a heap on top of Victorique.

His head is now spinning so badly he can hardly make out what she's saying as an extreme amount of blood seems to be pulsing loudly through his brain. Making the assumption that she's telling him to get off, he heaves himself clumsily to rest his head on the opposite armrest to the one Victorique is using.

Keeping his eyes closed, Kujo curls up tightly and pants. His forehead is bathed in a frantic sweat from his exertions and fever.

"Ku-jo." Victorique says slowly, each syllable of his name almost becoming a word of its own. He feels her feet brush lightly against his legs as she attempts to stretch as far as she can across the couch.

Kujo groans all the voice he is able to muster.

"Thank you." Victorique whispers.

Despite everything else, Kujo finds it in himself to smile.


	31. Meeting

031. Moment.

Kujo's legs ached from racing up so many stairs. He'd come to the library to find ghost stories. But racing up all these stairs because he'd found a golden hair trapped in them...well that was purely impulsive. _Or perhaps intuitive._ Kujo considered as he continued to lurch upwards. It felt like some sort of instinct, driving him farther and farther upwards.

He kept looking upwards, not sure what he was looking for, but knowing somehow that whatever was above would be worth all these stairs.

Despite the intensifying ache in his legs, that burned more strongly than most other exercise that he had ever attempted, he continued to step up and up.

To distract himself from the nuisance of his apparently underdeveloped leg muscles, he considered what might be above him. He hadn't heard much about the library of this school; apparently not many students used it. And now that he was climbing its myriad of stairs, he understood why.

There was a magnificent amount of knowledge hidden here, and excellent stories tucked away in dusty corners, but books weren't as appetizing when it took a full-fledged workout to find them.

He wondered why the library had been designed as a tower. It seemed a strange choice for a place you were just going to put your books. Perhaps because of the golden strand of hair he'd found, he sank into a partial daydream about a westerner story he'd heard once about a girl with long golden hair asleep in a tower. He wasn't thinking of climbing anymore, but driven by his instinct his feet continued to carry him upwards.

He had almost reached the top of the stairs when his body finally gave out and he was forced to stop for a moment and pant.

He forged upwards before he had completely regained his breath.

Before he could fall into the rhythm of running again he was distracted by what awaited him at the top of the stairs. He could see sunlight and flowers, dazzling and bright after the dusty gloom of the lower levels of the library.

Slowly his feet slide up the last few stairs as she stares in awe at the garden that seems to have sprung up from nothing at the top of the tower library.

His gaze shifts around the top floor. It lands on what appears to be a life-sized doll, with long golden hair.

Kujo can only stare.

* * *

><p><strong>I've been taking advantage of not having much homework can you tell? :)<strong>


	32. Two Sides of the Same Coin?

032. Eternal.

"Victorique?" Kujo asks casually one day. "Do you believe in anything?"

She turns to him, and presents him with a traditional flat look. "Believe in what Kujo? Ask what you mean."

Kujo sighs, not entirely sure how to elaborate on his question. "What do you believe?" He tries rephrasing the question slightly.

"I'm not going to say I believe in you." She mutters with a sulky expression, though a faint blush taints her cheeks as she says this.

Kujo laughs. "That's not what I was trying to get at, at all."

Victorique looks mildly surprised, which probably means she's suppressing just how startled she is by this. She regains her composure, glares for a moment, then asks grumpily, "Kujo tell me what you meant then."

Kujo shuffles his feet and stares at them for a moment before being about to respond. He isn't sure why this topic is so difficult for him to talk about, or even why he's bringing it up in the first place really. "Never mind." He mutters deciding to back away from it after all.

"Kujo," Victorique groans in frustration, which is actually fairly surprising as she is normally to stubborn to show emotions such as frustration so openly. Abruptly she switches to her mildly, snappy, demanding voice, her tone low and almost a threat. "Tell me what you meant Kujo."

Kujo sighs in defeat, realizing there probably isn't another option. He ducks his head so he can be as far from her gaze as possible. He can already feel his face beginning to flush. "I was trying to ask if you're religious." He muttered quickly and as incoherently as possible.

Probably unsurprisingly, Victorique still manages to catch all the words he's said. Her response however does surprise him. "I know that our hearts will never be parted, no matter the storms that come. Why should any other belief matter?"

This revelation is much more than Kujo ever thought Victorique would express on the subject, as she is often so closed lips on matters of emotions. "So you don't believe in some sort of God, then?" He asks curiously.

She looks at him, her eyes full of a very visible sorrow. "Kujo," she says softly, "if I have you and know that our hearts will never be parted, does it matter if there's a God or multiple gods in control of making it happen?"

Kujo begins to understand the sadness she is showing him, she wants him to confirm that all he needs from the world is to know she is going to be at his side, their hearts entwined forever, not that he's searching for some higher meaning and a God behind it. Kujo doesn't know if he can simply make this concession though. While he does love and appreciate that he and Victorique will never truly be apart while both their hearts beat, he can't help but wonder and want for a God and afterlife so that they can be together in the eternities too.

"Kujo," Victorique repeats his name almost desperately, begging him to agree with what she's saying. "Kujo..."

Kujo opens his mouth, "Victorique," He begins, but finds himself unable to continue, unable to explain his reasoning.

Victorique's eyes have become large and pleading, tears lingering and threatening to spill down her cheeks. Her lips move soundlessly to form his name again.

"Victorique," Kujo tries again closing his eyes. "Victorique," he whispered her name again gently, "I know he said our hearts would never be parted, but sometimes I worry about after they've stopped. That's when I want a God, so that there can life and existence beyond this, where I can still be with you." He doesn't know if the words will make sense to her but it is the best explanation he can give.

* * *

><p><strong>So this one was a little weird, and I feel like some of the conversation and such was stilted, but the Eternal prompt, put me in mind of death and the afterlife, especially because of some things that have happened recently, so this is my lame attempt and their different views of what it means for them to always be together. Hopefully it was still alright, even with the weirdness.<strong>


	33. A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

**This piece is basically a lot of fluff. But it was terribly entertaining to write, and hopefully to read as well.**

* * *

><p>33. Wish.<p>

"Let's go to the beach." Victorique suggests one morning.

Kujo looks at her, rather surprised by the cheerful disposition that accompanies this suggestion; normally Victorique isn't so...vibrant. He shrugs deciding there's no sense point this out, a happy Victorique is definitely a good thing, no sense ruining it by questioning why. "Sure we can go to the beach."

Victorique leans eagerly forward and grabs onto his arm, making Kujo feels as if he has been transplanted into some other universe where Victorique is a lot more outwardly friendly than he has ever known her to be. "Can we go today?"

Despite this strangeness in her behavior Kujo finds himself laughing happily in response and nodding. "If you want to go today, of course we can go today."

"Yay!" Victorique cheers, acting truly out of character and bouncing up and down like a three year old.

He can do nothing but stare as Victorique races down the hallway to either change or to find her swimsuit to bring along and change into later.

* * *

><p>"Kujo isn't the ocean beautiful!" Victorique exclaims, leaning much farther out than she should have in a moving vehicle, her golden hair whipping about wildly in the wind.<p>

"You shouldn't lean out so far, you could fall out of the car!" Kujo warns his eyes flickering between the road in front of him and concernedly at Victorique's weirdly hyperactive form. He is tempted to simply reach out and tug on the back of her dress forcing her to sit normally in her seat; however he feels this would only be a momentary solution and in her current excitable state she would simply spring up and lean out the window again.

Either Victorique hasn't heard his warning or is ignoring it, because her next statement is: "We're almost there, Kujo! I'm so excited to be at the beach with you again."

_Again?_ Kujo muses to himself, _The Queen Berry case was on a boat...when have we ever been to a beach together before now? Even boarding the Queen Berry was from a dock. I have no idea when she thinks we were at a beach before._

"Kujo! Kujo! Kujo!" Victorique shouts pointing excitedly. "Do you see the birds?"

"Will you please sit down before you fall out the window?" Kujo begs desperately.

Victorique shakes her head but the movement is mostly masked by wind still tugging at her golden hair. "We're almost there." Victorique repeats in her still strangely unquenchable excitement.

Kujo turns off of the highway to get onto the road that will end up against the beach. Surprisingly this was what causes Victorique to sit in her seat properly. Kujo suspects she has only plopped into her seat again though she can watch the approaching beach more easily. After all she's still bouncing ridiculously excitedly in her seat.

A few moments later they have reached the parking area, and Kujo has pulled into a convenient spot.

"Kujo," Victorique commands. "Scout out a good spot on the beach for us." Her tone is deadly serious. "I'm going to change into my swimsuit."

Kujo nods blushing a little at the thought of Victorique in a swimsuit, but obediently, he exits the vehicle to find them a place on the beach. "Don't take too long," He instructs a bit of teasing in his voice.

"Ku-jo," She moans drawing out the two syllables of his name, "It's a swimsuit; it can't be that difficult to put on."

A true blush rises in his cheeks now. "Right." He mutters and hurries towards the beach.

* * *

><p>A few minutes later Victorique plops onto the beach next to him, her golden hair, shines against the pale sand, and Kujo discovers himself to be blushing at the sight of so much of her skin, which a creamy pale color, that stands out nicely against the pale pink of her halter-topped bikini.<p>

She runs her hands through the sand a dreamy expression plastered across her face. "This is so much fun Kujo, why don't we go fun places more often?"

"Eh..." Kujo is unable to articulate a response to this. He doesn't want to say that Victorique's attitude is normally part of the problem because that would just upset her chipper mood. But he knows that if Victorique were more emotional about such things in general they would do them more often.

Victorique laughs a ridiculously high and girly laugh. She faces him directly practically crawling on top of him, there's a look in her eyes that Kujo supposes is her attempt at being sexy or perhaps flirty. "We really should more often." She gushes and strokes his arm in a light caress. "I do so enjoy spending time with you."

Kujo is beginning to get extremely nervous about Victorique's extremely out of character behavior. He's never seen her act anything remotely like this.

* * *

><p>Kujo wakes up abruptly; somewhat relieved to discover the whole strange beach scene was only a dream. Sometimes it might be fun for Victorique to be so exuberant, but he suspects that it would in a lot of cases simply be downright annoying.<p> 


	34. Schatten

034. Darkness.

She is alone, in a hallway. Eerie silence surrounds her, creeping into her ears as if it were some sort of bug, physical and capable of movement. An involuntary shiver races up and down her body.

She takes a few steps forward, not sure where she is going but not wanting to stay in the same place either. The floor beneath her, which looks heavily carpeted in an ugly flowery pattern, creaks beneath her. She freezes and shudders.

Someone should have been with her. She knows fervently that someone is supposed to be with her. Someone who would have made her feel safe, protected. But that person isn't here and she doesn't know why.

Wanting to keep moving she tries to lift her foot, but can't break through the oppressive fear that taking over her for long enough to dare take another step without her protector, whoever that may be.

Without her make any further movements something in the hallway ahead of her, something that she cannot see, creaks. This is followed by an eerie groan.

Her teeth start to chatter, and her voice attempts some word, but all that comes out is, "K-k-k-k-k..."

Silence descends again, somehow loud and oppressive, making her feel as if she is going to be squished into the floor.

She trembles further, and begins to produce the "k-k-k-k" sound again. She forces her lips to still as the sound is not helping her nerves. Unable to keep herself standing anymore, she sinks to the ground, her skirt a puddle, around her, feeling heavier than it should have for a few mere layers of fabric.

She looks about wildly, not even sure what her eyes are searching for but knowing that they are not finding it. She shudders hating the trapped feeling that is overwhelming her. Wishing she could find some way to escape, her eyes continue their frantic search.

Almost unconsciously and definitely uncontrollably, her hands begin grasping at her skirts, clenching and unclenching frantically. Unadulterated terror is quickly over what little motor control had remained to her.

She sits in the dark hallway and cries.

"Victorique! Victorique!" A familiar voice is shouting her name, pulling her from the terrifying dream.

She opens her eyes, relieved to see Kujo leaning over her, concern streaked across his features. "Oh Kujo!" She exclaims in relief and tosses her arms around him tightly.


	35. Cookies and Oranges

035. Poem.

_Cookies and Oranges_

What a lovely way to spend a night!

An easy way to find a spring to your step,

Easygoing and snacking,

Two lovely treats,

Resting on Victorique's tongue.

An actual sweet,

And one of the sweetest of fruits.

Life is wonderful when Kujo is constantly bringing sweets!


	36. Baby Mine

036. Sick.

Cordelia rolls over in the almost bed of straw she's been provided to sleep on. She is miserable. The pregnancy is certain now, but the morning sickness hasn't yet begun to fade. She wishes she could at least have better accommodations, but the Marquis is not used to treating anyone but himself, and perhaps his son, with luxuries.

She rubs her belly, trying to fight the stiffness in her cold muscles. This room she is trapped in never seems warm, and the sun never touches farther than halfway down the wall. Higher than Cordelia reach, especially in her nauseated state, even to press just a hand into the sunlight.

The sickness seems to slip briefly away from her and she attempts to sit up in the reprieve. A few moments upright sound wonderful, even if it isn't as welcome as the idea of sunshine once more touching her face.

Trying to distract herself from her uncomfortable state, Cordelia thinks of the baby she is carrying. Without having met it, she knows she will love her child. She wishes her love were worth more though. Even now she realizes that the love she has for her child will not be enough to break the Marquis plans or even weaken them. Her child will be a Gray Wolf, just like her. It is precisely what the Marquis wants and she doesn't know of any way to free herself or her most precious unborn child.

If only there was a way for her to fight, some way to escape.

But as she shivers in her dank cell, the sickness and slight swelling of her belly her only company, she knows this is a fool's hope.

Quietly Cordelia begins to cry, her pain and heartache at the world she's forced to bring her child into, overwhelming her.


	37. Yacht

037. Turbulence.

Victorique stares in excitement at the yacht. It is Kujo's honeymoon present to her. Not the yacht itself, just a few days cruise on the yacht, but even so she is immensely pleased by it. It means that Kujo didn't forget his promise to see the ocean with her again.

Kujo sees the faint smile on Victorique's lips and is content. It is all he has ever tried to do for Victorique, make her happy. Encouragingly he holds out and arm for her to grab hold to. "Shall we?"

Victorique nods, too eager to speak.

The instant they have boarded, she races to the railing of the yacht, grasping on and exploring the horizon excitedly with her eyes.

Kujo comes and stands next to her. Smiling contentedly. Casually he places a hand over hers.

They stay that way, peacefully watching the water, not needing words to perfect the moment, until the ships departs.

* * *

><p>Kujo holds Victorique close, sleeping peacefully. Victorique, however, quivers her eyes wide with fright. The yacht is lurching and tossing beneath them in an unexpected storm. It reminds her of when she was riding the sea without Kujo, and if it weren't for his arms around her, she would have thought she had somehow slipped back to that time.<p>

She doesn't want to wake Kujo, doesn't want to admit that the storm is terrifying her, but she knows if she can't get her shakes and shudders under control he will most likely awaken anyways. She closes her eyes and tries to force her breathing to be smooth and even.

The ship continues swaying and jolting which doesn't make it easy for her to concentrate on her breathing. All she wants to do is hyperventilate, not that it would truly help, but it feels the more natural thing for her to start doing.

Victorique squeezes her eyes shut more tightly. She won't let herself succumb to her panic. She is going to make it through this.

Almost absently, she begins stroking the arm that Kujo has wrapped around her. The motion and the activity of touching him, help calm her nerves slightly. Kujo is always capable of bringing some extra level of comfort to her, even if he doesn't know it.

Under her touch Kujo stirs slightly. "Victorique," He murmurs under his breath.

"Sleep, Kujo." Victorique commands, rather amazed that her voice doesn't quiver as she speaks.

At that moment the ship rolls violently, tossing them against the wall of the room. Kujo grunts as Victorique's small form is pressed against him. "Are you okay Victorique?" He asks, clearly only meaning the recent jostling of the ship, but Victorique knows she could answer truthfully now that he is awake.

She opens her mouth to speak and can't find the words to answer him, with a lie or the truth. Her breath catches in her throat and she begins to cry. She takes loud gulping breaths unable to issue any sort of control that might quiet herself.

"Victorique," She hates that his tone is so tainted with concern. She loves Kujo, but she isn't used to anyone, even now she's married, caring for her as much as Kujo does.

Kujo's grip around her squeezes gently. "Victorique," He repeats her name gently. She can feel his breath in her hair.

For some reason this makes her smile.

One of his hands begins gently stroking her hair. "It's alright Victorique, just like the storm that separated us, this storm will end too."

Her tears truly cease now. This gentle reminder about the storms of life is enough to soothe her panic and anguish at the storm that is still thrashing against the boat.

"Never leave me again Kujo." She demands softly.

"Of course not." Kujo responds promptly and she can hear the smile in his voice.


	38. Spirited

038. Malevolence.

Cordelia winced in pain as another contraction squeezed through her. It was only a matter of time before the pain got to be too much and she started screaming, or they came to give her another meal and found her crouched on the ground in agony about to deliver.

She wanted to keep them away for as long as possible. She'd known all along that she wouldn't be able to keep her precious child once it was born, but that didn't mean that she had to calmly accept their removal of her child from her.

Her eyes were raised heavenward and she prayed to whatever god might be listening that she would somehow be able to keep her child, as impossible as she knew that was right now. She closed her eyes in desperation another contraction rippling through her. A whimper escapes from between her lips, but she clamps her teeth down tightly not allowing any further sound to be released.

_Please, please,_ is her silent, directionless prayer. _Please let me keep my child._

Her hopes are shattered when only moments later the door to her cell is flung open. The Marquis' men march in quickly assessing the situation.

"Go inform the Marquis." She heard racing footsteps to obey the command.

Cordelia looked up. Two men were standing over her with menacing grins. Roughly the grabbed her by her armpits and dragged her to her feet.

She stumbled, hardly able to stand from the pain, even with a man on either side of her. Their hands dug into her armpits again and she was practically dragged from the room.

The diabolical plans of the man whom had forced his child upon her came to their fruition in a dark room, where Cordelia was strapped by her ankles and wrists to an altar like structure.

The air was full of malicious chuckles as she struggled through giving birth. The pain was practically unbearable, but there was nothing she could do but bear it. They weren't going to ease her pain in any way and if she wanted to survive, she must struggle on through the pain.

Her body ached and was close to giving out when the cry of a child filled the air.

Cordelia smiled, her baby was alive, before she fainted from exhaustion.

* * *

><p>She awoke to discover just how truly devious the Marquis was. She'd expected that she'd have been placed back in the cell where he'd mistreated her for so long, but she was in a clean white room, in a bed.<p>

Shakily Cordelia sat up, trying to learn from her surroundings just where the Marquis had trapped her now. She leaned up against the pillow at her back, wincing at the ache in her muscles. It shouldn't have hurt so much simply to ever herself upwards.

The room is eerily quiet and still around her. There isn't another soul in sight. She shivers at the lack of humanity in this place. Somehow she'll get out, and somehow she'll rescue her baby.

_The first thing to do will be to contact Brian; he'll have some way to get me out this place._ Cordelia thought desperately. She hoped he would help her, hoped that he didn't think she was dead, or worse off cavorting through the world without him.

Cordelia clenched her fists determined. She wasn't going to let the Marquis rule her life anymore, and somehow she'd find a way to free her baby as well.


	39. Almost

**I researched it, because I was curious and wanted to be accurate about this, and well, Valentine's Day wasn't even introduced in Japan until 1936, so I'm going to pretend that in the Gosick universe, Japan heard about it sooner, because I really wanted to write this anyways. (Also White Day wasn't introduced until the 1970's so I'm not even going to regard that part of the tradition at all.)**

039. Sugar.

Victorique sat at the top of the library, contentedly reading and munching on some candy. It was sweet and sugary, exactly the way she liked her candy to be.

Reaching out she plucked up another handful and casually tossed it into her mouth, before she needed to turn the page to continue reading. Her focus was almost completely devoted the book, the candy just a distance taste on her tongue, when her ears caught the faint hint of pounding footsteps, and then: "Victorique!"

She smiled secretively. Kujo was coming.

By the time he reached the top of the stairs, her face was composed. She tapped her finger against the edge of her book, trying to imitate the appearance of boredom.

"Victorique," Kujo said again.

She looked up from her book, attempting to keep her face distant. It wouldn't do him any good to know how excited she was to have him here. "Did you bring me something?" She asked coolly. She really did love getting presents, and Kujo was strangely eager to give them to her.

Kujo nodded, his face abruptly flushing a bit. He looked a bit nervous too, now that she paid some attention to him. His hands were hidden behind his back and he was shifting uncomfortably as he stood in front of her.

"What is it?" She asked in the same tone, holding out a palm for him to place the gift in.

He smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head anxiously for a moment. "It's almost Valentine's Day."

She regarded the statement with a flat look, not understanding his point.

"In my country that usually means that the man or woman in a relationship will present the other with gifts." Kujo was speaking quietly, his face burning a bright red.

Victorique continued to stare at him. She could see where this was going, but she didn't have to make it easy on him either. He was the one who wanted to adhere to the ridiculous tradition. She didn't see what the purpose of it was really, as an excuse to get extra gifts it seemed a fairly weak one. If it was for someone you really cared about, shouldn't you just give them gifts any time you felt like it?

"So, uh..." Kujo continued his stuttering train of thought. "I went to town and bought you some chocolates for Valentine's Day." He brought a rather small box of chocolates out from behind his back. He placed it gently on her still outstretched palm. "Don't eat them all at once." He instructed in a rush, his face flaming. He turned and raced back down the stairs.

Victorique chuckled at his hasty departure, before she gave her attention to the chocolate he'd left for her. Her expression changed from humored to pleased. Even if the holiday was ridiculous, she did love it when he gave her sweets.


	40. Visibly

**I don't know technically if the time period of Gosick is correct for this particular tradition, probably not considering it's probably at least partially related to Valentine's which I talked about in the last chapter, but I just watched an episode Cardcaptors with teddy bears and I couldn't resist.**

040. Writer's Choice. Teddy Bears.

"Victorique, I have something for you." Kujo whispered quietly.

Victorique rolled over in bed to stare at her husband, her silver hair shimmering vaguely in the soft morning light. "What?" She asked grumpy at being awoken so early, even if it was for some sort of present.

"Stay right there." He whispered in response and slipped out of bed.

Grumpy, Victorique rolled back over and tried to fall asleep again. He could show her whatever it was later, now she just wanted to sleep.

Unfortunately he was back before she could fall asleep. "Victorique," He called gently.

She sighed and only sat up because she caught the faint whiff of the scent of chocolate. For anything besides sweets she simply would have pretended to have fallen back asleep. "Kujo, why –" she started, but found herself a bit confused and speechless when she saw what Kujo was holding out to her. In one hand he held a small wrapped up box, from which the chocolate smell seemed to be emanating, the other was clasped carefully around a soft, stuffed bear. Her gaze lifted from the objects to Kujo's face.

He shrugged a bit sheepishly. "It's Valentine's Day. I knew you'd want sweets, but the bear is special too." Gently he set down the box in front of her, then pulled out a ribbon from his pocket. "It's possible you know this already, but they say a bear's birthday is the day that you gift it a name." He explained softly as he tied the red ribbon around the bear's neck, the red almost glowing in contrast to the soft white of its fur.

"What's this bear's name?" Victorique asked softly, entranced by it. She'd never had anything like this as a child, and even it was belatedly, she desperately wanted this bear.

Kujo smiled at her hesitantly. "Well they say that if you name the bear after the person whom means most to you and gift it to them; you'll always have their love. So I wanted to call this bear Victorique."

Her gaze met his steadily. "You already know that you have me forever. We were told our hearts would never be separated." She pointed out.

"Do you not want the bear then?"

Victorique shook her head and snatched the bear from his hands. "No, Victorique will be mine. Visual proof of what we already knew."

Kujo smiled, pleased by this reaction.

Victorique stroked the bear happily for several moments. She'd never been able to hold anything so soft, so close before. She looked up at Kujo again. "I'll find you a bear too Kujo. We both deserve this proof."

Kujo's grin grew even wider.


	41. Feet First

041. Embrace.

The sun is bright overhead as Victorique plops down near the shade of the tree. The parasol Kujo gave her is any easy solution to the bright sun on the white pages of her book. It is a bit of a fight for her to get the parasol to open. _Kujo made it look so easy yesterday!_ Victorique thinks grumpily as she continues to strain at it.

Finally the parasol snaps opening, startling her slightly. For awhile she attempts to read, but her attention is adrift, the leaves of the tree near her, whistling slightly in the wind like an inviting whisper.

Unable to resist the urge, Victorique decides to climb the tree, ignoring the faint scent of summer rain that's carried on the breeze.

* * *

><p>Victorique shivers and stares at the ground beneath her, wishing she dared to jump. It had seemed like such a wonderful idea to climb into the tree before the rain started. Now she wishes she hadn't had the nerve.<p>

"Curse you, Kujo." She murmurs under her breath. If she hadn't watched him climb into the tree, she never would have even though to try this.

Water splatters onto her already wet head from above, causing a shudder to race up and down her spine. She has never been this wet in her entire life. It is almost miserable enough that she wishes she were still trapped in her father's prison, if only to be dry.

She wishes she would have considered how miserable it would be to climb down from this tree. She runs her hand along the rough, yet slick bark. She likes trees, they are a wonderful form of life that was severely lacking in her childhood, but she is beginning to hate this tree. It is not fun to be trapped in a tree.

She closes her eyes and listens to the pounding of the rain, since there is nothing else she can do. Today is probably one of the most unpleasant days she has had since she was freed from her father's imprisonment. First Kujo brought her the most delicious looking cake, that that idiot teacher had gone and eaten, then the rain started and she still hadn't figured out a way to escape from the tree. Maybe if he hadn't been so rude and struck at her pride about stuck in the tree she wouldn't be in this ridiculous wet mess.

"Kujo." She grumbles. This was all his fault for climbing the tree in front of her. She never would have thought of such a thing on her own.

She can feel her wet hair clinging to her clothes and face, a freezing distraction amongst the pounding of the rain. She cocks her head; she thinks she can hear the squelching of footsteps. Her name is produced as a shout moments later, "Victorique!"

She forces a smile not form on her face. She will not be pleased to see Kujo, even if he can get her out of this blasted tree.

He calls to her to jump down, that he'll catch her when she does. She peeks out at his soon-to-be rain-sodden form. She shakes her head; it's too far for her to jump. "I-I can't." It is all his fault. He continues to urge her to jump, despite her protests.

A naughty idea slips into Victorique's head. Thinking of a way to punish Kujo and get out of the tree, she stands, shakily and briefly, the wet bark slick and treacherous enough to send her flying with a misplaced step.

She is hardly upright before she forces herself to jump, knowing she can't allow herself any time to think about this. Her heart rushes in a series of terrified beats as she flies through the air. Her hair billows out behind her despite its wetness. She has aimed her trajectory carefully and her feet slam into Kujo's chest. The impact is more jarring to her than she expects, especially when Kujo's back hits the ground, but she is sure it still hurt Kujo more than any damage it did to her.

"You came down feet-first, is that normal for this kind of thing?" Victorique was amazed Kujo could still speak after having his breath so thoroughly knocked out him.

"How should I know?" Victorique asked snappishly and raced off into the rain.

* * *

><p><strong>I tried to take the title of this prompt in an ironic way, as Kujo was expecting an embrace of a sort (ie catching her) but there was no embrace after all...anyways if you don't like it feel free to complain, it probably won't change anything, but complaining might make you feel better about it all. ;)<strong>


	42. Dreaming of You

042. Dark Eyes.

Victorique stared at the ceiling unable to sleep. Today had been a rather unique day. She'd let herself be seen. Normally if anyone had dared venture up to the top floor of the library she would have hidden in her cupboard, but today she hadn't.

She'd let the boy with the dark hair and Oriental eyes see her. She'd known for weeks that it might happen. Cecile, that ridiculously childlike teacher, had talked about him a lot. She'd liked to be in other people's business as much as she could. It irritated Victorique, but it had brought this strange boy to her.

She didn't yet know if she wanted to continue to have this boy in her life, but she knew he would be back. Cecile wouldn't be able to resist finding an opportunity to send him back now that they had met.

Victorique was rather intrigued to see how this would go. She'd never really had much of anyone to associate with and even if the boy was a bit idiotic (but then who wasn't without her Wellspring of Knowledge to tap into?) he'd seemed a genuine sort of person. Victorique hadn't had much chance to know that sort of person in her lifetime.

Victorique continued to stare at the ceiling, letting the pieces of Chaos fall into place.

* * *

><p>Victorique looked around. She was standing on a slight rise in an expanse of grassy field that extended out in all directions. Wind rushed about her, whipping her hair about and mildly slapping at her face. She attempted to tuck it away behind her ear or behind her completely, but it was a mostly futile attempt.<p>

She sulked for a moment, wishing she could get her hair to behave. It wasn't a major concern though. With so much blue sky above her all she really wanted to do was lie down in the grass and stare at it anyways. So she obliged herself and laid down on the ground to do just that.

The sky was completely cloudless above her. She wished that there were clouds to watch drifting overhead, but the sky was beautiful nonetheless.

A head swept in front of her face blocking her view of the sky. Shaggy brown hair hung around a youthful face, with familiar chocolaty brown eyes. "Victorique." He stated a smile of pleasure pulling across his face.

"You're blocking my sunlight." She told him grumpily, slightly embarrassed that she couldn't remember the boy's name.

The eyes hovering over hers merely continued to meet hers. The boy remaining silent.

"What are you waiting for? Get out of my sunshine." Victorique growled in annoyance.

He chuckled and didn't say anything.

"Are you waiting for a please?" Victorique snapped, almost sitting up and moving to where he couldn't stand over her in that semi-eerie way. "I don't say please."

He laughed and shook his head, still not uttering a word.

Victorique stared at him in incredulous annoyance. She scowled and attempted to fit the pieces of Chaos before her together. It shouldn't have taken this much effort, but she simply could not remember his name.

"You seem so puzzled." The boy teased.

She hated that he was mocking her, but without his name she could do nothing. Grumpily she rolled away from his happily smiling face, and stood a few feet away, brushing away the blades of grass that had clung to her skirt and hair. Her nose was filled with the grass's heavy scent as she did this.

"Victorique," The boy's voice called cheerfully.

She wanted to slap him, but refused to even turn around and acknowledge him. "Go away!" She shouted grumpily and raced away in the opposite direction.

"Victorique!" He called out, his tone still extremely friendly; this boy just could not take a hint. Faintly she even thought she could hear the swish of his footsteps following her.

She didn't know what to do to rid herself of him. She was so frustrated that abruptly her foot caught in a patch of uneven ground and she went sprawling. "Oof," She muttered, trying to lever herself upwards. Her whole body ached from the fall, particularly her chin which had smashed gracelessly into the hard dirt. She felt particles of dirt trickling from her chin, and she shook her head hard, before scrubbing vigorously at her chin with one hand.

The boy skidded down the hill, stopping next to her. "Are you alright?"

Victorique groaned. This boy just wasn't going to give up. She looked up into his dark brown eyes. "I'm fine. Go away."

He grinned at her. "But we're only just getting to know each other, that hardly seems fair."

"Can't I choose for myself whom I get to know?" Victorique grumbled, levering her body upwards and blatantly ignoring the hand he was holding out to her.

When she was finally on her feet again, she looked around to see not only that the boy had disappeared but the field she had been in as well. The sky had turned a dark, purplish gray, seething with clouds and brief, bright streaks of lightning. The ground had become hard, also had a purplish gray tint and was mere dirt compared to the lively grasses from before.

Victorique shivered at the electricity in the air.

Even if the obnoxious boy, whose name she'd couldn't remember, had been there, she much preferred the field to this barren wasteland.

Her lip began to tremble and she wished she could remember the boy's name so she could at least have a name to call out to try and scare away her fright at this wasted landscape. Much as she wracked her mind though, the name would not surface. Her whole body began to tremble.

She couldn't just shout boy and what was to say he would even hear if she did call out to him? She had no reason to believe that. None. But she wanted so badly to call out his name. She didn't know why his name was so important, but somehow she felt he could save her. She'd never felt that way about anyone before.

If only she could think of his name...

"Victorique," A familiar voice called, but it wasn't the voice she wanted to hear.

She whipped around to see her father, standing arms open amidst all the lightning, a smile stretched across his face and his eyes practically glowed in the strange lighting.

Victorique shook her head and took a step backwards; she would not go to her father. She refused to run to him. He had never done anything good for her. She was going to stay as far from him as she could for the rest of her life. "Go away!" She shouted, wincing as she remembered her command to the boy to do the same. She'd give anything to have him back at this moment.

Her father began to approach her; the eerie smile still plastered his face. "Come now Victorique, come to Daddy." His tone was probably meant to be soothing, or at the very least patronizing, but all it did was send shivers up and down Victorique's spine.

"Leave me alone!" Victorique shouted.

His pace was unbroken and unphased by her shouting.

"Go, please!" Victorique was abruptly almost sobbing. She tried to step back farther, but her foot caught on what seemed to be the edge of a cliff. A quick glance behind her proved this to be so.

She swallowed sharply. Now she had nowhere else to go. It was the cliff or her father. Neither option seemed exactly delightful, but between the two she thought she knew which she would rather choose.

Her foot rose into the air her decision made...

"Kujo!" Victorique awoke screaming the boy's name. She panted for several moments, trying to regain her breath and recover from the nightmare she'd just experienced.

After her heartbeat had calmed, she smiled. She hadn't forgotten his name.

"Kujo." She whispered softly, resting her head back on the pillow, eyes fluttering closed as she fell asleep again.

* * *

><p><strong>This prompt gave me a bit of grief, I've been reading Deathnote fanfiction (and just restarted reading the manga) so when it said Dark Eyes all I could think of was L and the dark circles around his eyes. But I got it figured out, mostly because once I hit the dream idea it was relatively simple to write. I love dream sequences. They are so much fun to write, and it's okay if they don't make sense because it's not about the real world, right? :)<strong>


	43. Clover

043. Hands.

Victorique sat in an empty field her skirt spread out evenly on the grass around her. Idly her hand tugged at the grass, occasionally yanking hard enough to actually pull it from the ground. She closed her eyes and relaxed, letting everything the gentle breeze instill its peacefulness into her.

A smile flickered briefly across her lips. She hadn't been able to enjoy anything this much for a long time.

She squished a blade of grass between her fingers, enjoying it's texture, before lifting her hand to smell the fresh scent of the grass. She flopped backwards into the grass, smiling happily. She felt as happy as the springtime. She closed her eyes and wiggled contentedly letting the sent it produced fill her with even more pleasure.

"Victorique," Her lovely Kujo's voice whispered, apparently he had returned from his secretive mission that he'd refused to disclose to her when they had arrived here.

Her eyes fluttered open. She shifted her head so that she could look directly at him. "Kujo-kun," She wasn't quite able to exhibit her usual grumpiness she would express at the sight of him. Her surroundings and being back with Kujo had made her much too happy for that.

Kujo grabbed a strand of her now silvery hair and twirled it around a finger. "I have something for you." He whispered watching his fingers messing about in the strands of hair rather than her face.

"You brought me a present?" Victorique asked excitedly, sitting up abruptly.

Kujo nodded and grinned finally meeting her eyes.

"Well what is it?" Victorique asked impatiently.

Delicately he held out a small four-leaf clover to her. "Luck." He whispered softly, his eyes on the bit of greenery resting on his palm rather than on her face. "Luck so that we might have enough of it not to ever be separated again."

Victorique wanted to be angry that he hadn't brought sweets, but the gesture was too sweet. Tenderly she lifted the clover from his palm, and tucked it into her hair. "Thank you Kujo-kun." Then she glared pointedly at him, "But next time bring me sweets."

Kujo laughed.


	44. As a Child

**I love Jacqueline's playful personality and I couldn't resist playing with this a little, I figure this is a potential way she might have been as a child. Plus I think the dual secret love sort of feel that this ended up producing is semi-ironic and sad in an intriguing way. Anyways, enough talking. Read, read :)**

* * *

><p>044. Youth.<p>

Jacqueline wandered through the forest, as she often did on lively days like this. She loved to be amongst all the greenery and to hear the birds sing distantly through the trees. Being able to wander through the forest like this made her want to stay young forever, to always be free of the obligations that would force her away from this wonderful setting.

A sudden wind rose up as she wandered through the trees. She snatched at her hat, but was too late to catch it before it was snapped away by the breeze. She chased after it laughing rather frantically.

After a few moments she gave up the chase. The wind was behaving too fiercely for her to catch the hat. Perhaps she could find it when the wind was being a little less aggressive. Besides it was too lovely of a day to simply run through rather than enjoying the scenery.

She stepped around some trees and found Grevil almost awkwardly holding out her hat to her. She flushed in embarrassment. Grevil always had that sort of affect on her. She suspected she was attracted to him, but she would never admit it, because she doubted such a rich and important could feel the same way about her, a simple girl, with simple dreams.

"Missing this?" Grevil asked lightly.

Jacqueline tucked her head feeling her blush deepen. "Thanks for catching it for me." She mumbled unable to look at him. She reached out and took the hat from him, despite her embarrassment.

"It was rather difficult not to," he continued in the same teasing tone. "It practically attacked my face."

Jacqueline found herself giggling, unable to ignore the humor in the image.

She looked up to see Grevil smiling faintly. It almost seemed like he'd been trying to get her to laugh but that couldn't possibly it. The expression was so faint that she could have been imagining it; he probably actually thought that her laughter was tasteless, laughing at his misfortune of being attacked by a hat.

"What are you doing in the woods, all alone?" Grevil asked as her giggling finally began to die down.

Jacqueline took a deep breath trying to choke back the rest of her laughter, "I – I just like wandering through the woods, especially on days like today."

"Hmm?" Grevil's eyebrows rose as if he were confused by what she was referring to. "Like today?"

"When the sun is shining and the birds are singing, and the whole world just feels happy." Jacqueline explained, with a slight shrug, but beaming with happiness; she didn't really have any other way to describe what she meant. It was easy to lose herself in the joyfulness of a day like this.

"You like being outside?"

It seemed an obvious question in response to what she had just said, but she nodded anyways. "I don't feel quite as alive when I'm indoors, unless I'm exploring, but there usually isn't much to explore indoors. There's always something new to discover outdoors."

Grevil nodded thoughtfully. "Do you want to go exploring with me?"

Jacqueline laughed, joyful at the thought of it. "That would be wonderful. Where would we explore?" She asked eagerly, her eyes bright with the idea of an adventure with the boy she liked so much.

"My father's castle." Grevil suggested.

Jacqueline was tempted by the idea she had never been allowed inside the monstrosity Grevil's family closeted themselves away in, but she was hesitant. Her mother had told her strange stories of the place, and of the people within it. "Well -" she started.

A smile quickly crossed Grevil's features, it was a tight, almost frustrated smile. "It's alright I understand." His tone was almost bitter.

"No, I'd go -" Jacqueline started flustered.

"It's alright, I know what my family can seem to outsiders and I wouldn't want to cause you discomfort."

"Grevil..."

He had already turned and was walking away.

"Grevil!" She shouted, but he didn't hear or at least didn't turn around.


	45. Kimono

045. Ignored.

"I'm bored! Bored! Bored! Bored!" Victorique shouted in annoyance and frustration. She didn't even have Kujo here for the moment as a distraction. Although his presence wouldn't really cure her boredom so easily, unless of course, he had a mystery for her to solve. But even the mysteries he tended to provide her with were relatively easy to solve, it was hardly worth the effort most of the time to even bother aligning the pieces of Chaos, because they already practically were and Kujo was simply too blind to see it.

"I'm completely and totally bored!" She finished as Kujo arrived at the top of the stairs.

"Victorique," He said walking over to where she was sitting a package tucked under his arm. "I'm going to Saubreme tomorrow."

Victorique talked over him, not particularly interested in whatever story he wanted to tell. "Kujo," She commands him, "by tomorrow I want you to be wrapped up in a mystery and if you bring it to me in the right mood, I will even solve it for you simply to cure my boredom."

Kujo stared at her for a moment, his face twisting into a sort of glare. Before his expression took on the flash of remembering something, "Oh Victorique, I have something for you." He pulled out the package that he'd been keeping tucked under his arm.

"Probably something useless and impractical," Victorique started to prattle on about it, before her gaze flicked to what he was unwrapping and she stopped, abruptly speechless. "What is that?" She asked quickly, her voice on the verge of being breathless. He was holding what looked to be just a bright pile of pink and blue fabric, but she instantly wanted to stroke it and run her fingers over it again and again. It looked smooth and wonderful to touch.

"It's a kimono, from my country. After I told my sister about you, she sent this for you. I thought you could use it as sleepwear. Do you want it?"

"Yes!" Victorique announced excitedly, reaching out for Kujo to place the fabric in her arms.

"I'm glad you're excited for it." Kujo said in an almost patronizing tone that sent a faint flush rising in her cheeks. Her hands dropped instantly. She wasn't going to act so eager if he was going to be so rude, no matter how much she actually wanted to handle that fabric, and wear...what was it? The kimono.

Victorique turned away from him angrily and basically ignored what he was saying as he tried to instruct her on how to tie the obi. She snatched a book from the top of the cupboard next to her and made an excuse about reading it. She could be even ruder than him if the situation called for it.

Kujo seemed disappointed and said something about needing to prepare for tomorrow, that she was too angry to properly pay attention to, before he left her alone. She could hardly restrain herself to wait until he was descending the stairs to reach over and examine the blue and pink fabric of the kimono that he'd left sitting next to her.

She ran the cloth excitedly over her fingers, reveling in the smoothness of the silk. She was excited for this gift, even if she tried to make light of it to Kujo. She couldn't stand when embarrassed her in that way. She would always be instantly defensive in such matters; it was his own fault that she'd had to treat him that way.

After spending several minutes simply stroking the fabric, she folded it back up gently and made her way to the elevator. She was going to go back to her house and try the kimono on there.

As she walked along in the sunshine carrying her precious bundle she couldn't resist singing to herself, "Kimono. Kimono. Kujo got me a kimono. Kujo got me a kimono." She can't stop smiling, even with the setting sun lighting on her eyes as she walked to the maze that contained her home.

Once inside, Victorique quickly stripped to only her undergarments. The blue robe part was easy to figure out how to wear even if it felt ginormous on her small frame, but she can't understand why the pink part, the obi Kujo was trying to tell her about she suspects, is so long. Several failed attempts at trying to tie it leave her frustrated and annoyed.

Still, she continued to run her fingers along the fabric, her difficulty with tying it doesn't stop her from enjoying the texture of the material. It was almost smooth enough to be a liquid running over her hands instead of fabric.

Even though she hadn't figured out how to tie it, Victorique loved the gift. She'd never really received gifts from anyone before, except for the locket from her mother. She decided as she laid to sleep that she'd wear the robe part to sleep in and merely drape the pink strip of untie-able cloth over herself like an extra blanket.

Victorique fell asleep stroking the fabric, a smile and Kujo's name on her lips.


	46. Never Victorious

046. Mistake.

"Kujo are you doing anything tomorrow?" Avril asked carefully not meeting his gaze.

Kujo looked over at his friend in surprise; the question had come from nowhere that he could puzzle out, although Victorique probably could have pieced it together easily enough. He shook his head. "I didn't have plans."

Avril smiled faintly still not meeting Kujo's gaze. "Do you want to go town with me?"

He was surprised she was acting so shy, he'd accompanied her to the town on multiple occasions and she'd never acted like this before. "Sure. What are you doing there?"

A faint flush rose in Avril's cheeks. "Nothing particular I just thought it might be nice to wander around town, get off the school grounds for a while."

Kujo nodded slowly still a bit puzzled by Avril's behavior. He was rather surprised she need any sort of adventure when just the other day Victorique had revealed Leviathan's identity and history to everyone. He would have thought that would be enough adventuring for a while, for anyone. But then, Avril could often be unpredictable, it was probably at least partially due to her wanting to be an adventurer like her grandfather at any rate.

"And...friends," her voice stumbled a bit around the word friend, "are usually lots of fun on spontaneous trips..." Her voice trailed away.

Kujo wondered why it sounded like she was trying to convince him to come. He had already said he would hadn't he? So why was she acting so nervous about it? He patted Avril's back, in a consoling, friendly sort of manner. "I said I'd go. Don't be so worried about it."

Then he turned away to go to the library. Victorique would be mad if he was late.

...

Avril watched Kujo go feeling slightly baffled. What was she doing wrong? Why did Kujo have to be so oblivious? Already he was running off to be with Victorique again, she couldn't understand how he was missing all the signs she was trying to give him to indicate that she liked him.

She hated that he was trotting off to the library again, like some faithful dog. She stomped her foot in frustration. Why did he have to be so devoted to her? After yesterday she was especially frustrated. Victorique had revealed Leviathan's final resting place, and somehow in the course of that, because Victorique had felt it necessary to take off Leviathan's mask she supposed, Kujo had carried Victorique on his shoulder and pushed her out of the danger when the corpse had started to fall. Sure Avril had been worried a bit about the little brat in the moment too, but she hated that it only added to infinite amount of attention Kujo was already giving Victorique.

Which was why she had resorted to the desperate measure of asking Kujo to accompany her to town tomorrow. It was all she could do not to begin quivering with nervousness at the very thought of it. But it was the only way she could think of to cause Kujo to start paying attention to her. She would have to do something dramatic tomorrow. Something that would keep his attention fixed upon her.

Not Victorique. If Avril had her way, Kujo would never think of Victorique again.

...

"You ready to go?" Kujo asked, approaching Avril who was waiting by the school's gate.

She nodded, nervousness bubbling up in her stomach. She hated that her own body felt so out of her control. She wanted to get everything over with right this instant and simply latch onto Kujo's hand. But she didn't quite dare yet. Still on the grounds as they were, Avril was worried about Victorique finding them and ruining everything.

Doing her best to hide her nervousness she turned on her heel and headed down the dusty path towards town. Kujo followed easily enough. "I'll have to get some sweets for Victorique today." Kujo mused as they walked along.

Avril's hands clenched into fists. How could he already be talking about that girl? She tried to keep her voice normal and said, "Okay, we can stop and get some sweets."

"What did you want to do today?" Kujo asked, apparently having forgotten their previous conversation where she had made some claim to simply wanting to come out of spontaneity.

She almost repeated this, but bit it back. It was time she told Kujo the truth. She opened her mouth to speak, ready to blurt out her feelings for Kujo in the plainest form that she could when he started to speak again.

"Oh, that's right, you said you just wanted to come to town, not for anything, but just because."

Avril shoulders slumped all her readiness to explain her feelings pricked out of her lie a popped balloon. Why did it have to be so hard to confess her feelings for him? She nodded silently to his statement even though it didn't require it.

"Are you okay today?" Kujo asked, still just rambling on, obliviously. "You've been acting rather oddly lately."

Avril's temper rose up suddenly within her. He had no right to comment on her moods that way! It was his fault she was in a funk anyways! She'd had to deal with him blathering on about stupid Victorique for ages now, and she'd had to watch him lift the girl up onto his shoulder to help her reach Leviathan's stupid mask! Avril was tired of being in Victorique's shadow, but she'd begun to realize that Kujo was too dense to ever understand that. Victorique was the only person he could see or care about. Avril had made a mistake in trying to express her unrequited feelings to him, he'd never return them. He'd just feel this ridiculous, friendly concern that didn't do her any good in the long run, because it didn't meet her needs towards him.

"I'm fine Kujo." She snapped the words off bitterly and marched quickly over the dusty path. The sooner they were done with this stupid errand the better.

"Avril!" Kujo called after her sound completely befuddled. "Avril what's wrong?"

She refused to answer him and simple continued her determined march towards town.


	47. First Star I See Tonight

047. Stars.

Victorique stared up at the velvet darkness of sky above her. The stars sparkled like small diamonds stitched into fine fabric.

It was beautiful.

There was a time when she had not liked the darkness. A time from when she'd been very small and trapped in a cell her provided her with, through most of the time she'd known Kujo before they'd been separated. She hadn't been afraid of the dark. She didn't believe in the ghosts ordinary people were terrified of; she had merely hated the darkness. Hated the shadows, the way everything was so easily hidden in it, covered up like the lies her father would constantly tell so that in the end he could have his way.

Once she and Kujo had been able to find each other again, the darkness had stopped seeming to be such a hateful thing to her. It could still hide everything, but also in the darkness, and usually so close by now that they were reunited, was Kujo.

So now she could look at the night sky and see its beauty; she could stare into the darkness and smile.

"Victorique," Kujo's voice was as gentle, like the blurred of edges that came along with the darkness and night.

"Kujo," She responded, her smile widening. Without needing another word she stretched a hand out behind herself for him to grab onto.

He took the hand, just as she'd known he would. He clasped it between both of his own. A wonderful warm feeling that is was hard to grow tired of; it had once been extremely difficult for her to reach out to him, but now she simply didn't want to ever let go.

"I like watching the stars." Kujo said softly, now standing next to her.

Victorique stared up at him, admiring the faint shine on his face from the moon- and starlight. She happy to have the knowledge that she'd never be far from his side again. They'd been separated once and their hearts had survived, so Victorique knew they could if that were to happy again, but she knew it never would. It made her immensely pleased.

She turned away from Kujo's face and stared up at the stars again. She couldn't bring herself to actually say it but she liked everything as long as Kujo was by her side, even if she couldn't tell him. She wished briefly that Kujo had his own Wellspring of Knowledge, then he would know instinctively, without her needing to tell him how she felt.

She opened her mouth, wanting to speak, to try and tell him something, but no words emerged. She was still too much the girl she had been, solitary and unable to communicate in the easy way people who'd been raised in human contact could.

So she held his hand, leaned close and rested her head against him, telling him in the only way she could just how much she didn't want to lose him. She couldn't see it but she suspected that Kujo smiled as she expressed this need for closeness.

* * *

><p><strong>Woohoo! Two posts in one week, I haven't managed that in ages! On a sadder note, there are only three more of these prompts to complete and then I'll be finished with this project...I just don't know what I'll do with myself...except that I'm sort of planning an Avril fic, so I'll still be writing for this universe. Just one story at a time, hopefully that will be long and lovely as well. Thank you to all my faithful and patient readers :)<strong>


	48. Think of Hades

**So the connection to this prompt, is a bit crappy. But bear with me. I had a hard time figuring out how I could involve Pluto of all things in this story, so here we are with a faint to it, at least in my mind, through Pluto being basically the same as Hades in Greek mythology and then Albert, wanting to protect himself and absolutely no one else, so a self-centered governor of death...kinda like Hades...so that's how it fits in my mind. Hopefully even if the connection makes sense to you, you still like this piece. (ACK, only two more prompts after this, whatever will I do?)**

* * *

><p>048. Pluto.<p>

"There is a storm coming." Albert's voice was filled with conviction so strong it took Leviathan back for a moment. Hardly ever had he seen another person so impassioned. Or that he hated so strongly. The boy or rather young man, had come to him, in a fit of what he wanted to pass of as kindness. Leviathan had only listened to Albert because he'd Ian and the pain and regret of what he'd done were clouding everything else, not because the boy had thought he could protect Leviathan. Leviathan was beyond protection after what he'd done to Ian.

He had let Albert discuss protecting him at length of course, mostly because he was curious what such a young boy thought he could do, for a condemned alchemist. Leviathan had only truly found interest when Albert began speaking of the storm, a storm that would sweep across the entire earth. How could he know of such a thing? Why would he want Leviathan's help to combat it?

"An unprecedented storm approaches. But the king is unaware of it."

Leviathan couldn't help the words that leapt from his lips. "What is it?"

"War." Albert responded in a cool, even tone, his lips curling faintly in an almost cruel smile. He began to describe in detail the terrors of such a war. A maniac glow hid behind his eyes, terrifying Leviathan more than the war that the boy was describing. A deeper fervor colored Albert's voice as he spoke of the results of such a war. Such a disastrous event, that only seemed to increase his pleasure.

Leviathan shuddered faintly.

Albert leaned forward his voice loud and raging, his hand clenching into a dramatic fist before him. "It must be protected! Protect our history, knowledge ancient power!"

Leviathan tried not to show how disturbed he was by this boy's fanaticism about this terrible war. "What do you want from me?" He asked keeping everything at as normal of a tone and posture as he could manage in his rattled state.

Albert rose and gestured grandly. "I want you to create the power to fight. To protect the ancient Europe and Saubure from the new powers." As he spoke Albert strode closer to the desk that Leviathan sat behind. He punctuated his statement by slamming his hands down onto the desk. His eyes and expression were wild with that terrifying fervor.

"Create what?" Leviathan asked, grateful for the mask that hid his expression from the maniacal boy.

"Man-made warriors unafraid of death. Man-made humans. Homunculus." Candlelight flickered eerily over Albert's face, adding to the otherworldliness of his request.

Leviathan's breath caught in his throat. Albert truly did believe in alchemy if he was asking for that. The supposed alchemist had no idea how to respond to such a request. There seemed to no safe way to refuse, or agree. He couldn't create homunculi any more than he could produce gold.

Albert seemed to take his silence as some sort of agreement. He turned away, a smug grin crossing his features. "Prepare my army. I'll be sure to protect you." Albert called over his shoulder and sauntered from the room.

Leviathan sat in silence for a long time. He wasn't sure that he'd be able to move again, fear of the power in that boy froze him. He hadn't thought anyone could believe in the powers of alchemy so fervently. He would need to find some way to deter him, that or die. Because there was no way for homunculi to be created. And he knew Albert's would be terrible, so terrible that it would not end with Leviathan's swift death, it would be painful, prolonged, torture.

Leviathan knew there must be some way to escape that terrible fate. Even if all he could do was escape into death before Albert had the chance to torture and eventually kill him. He would search for another way but if it could not be found, lying in death would be sweet. Living this lie had brought him nothing but pain, it hadn't saved his country, it hadn't fulfilled his means in any way. It was time to give up the disguise. To give up the lie. It was time for him to be ready to die.


	49. Zweifel über der Zukunft

**ACK! Only one more prompt after this...I'm so sad...except really I have lots more Gosick story ideas, so it'll just be the end of posting in this but not the end of my posting about Gosick. Anyways, I can sort of thank Himeflye for this one. I had the idea in my head, but wasn't sure if I liked, then I talked to her about it and decided that I did. :)**

* * *

><p>049. Fortune.<p>

"Kujo," She states evenly, as the drape falls and she is left in the small space with the Elder. "I want to know what will happen to me and Kujo." She hopes she has managed to keep any desperation from her tone; she is not fond of showing any sort of weakness. Going to a fortune telling of any sort is a form of weakness, but Kujo doesn't need to know that she had been here, and as long as Kujo doesn't find out she can stand the shame of showing this much weakness.

The old man leans towards her, his beard almost falling in her lap. "What is your question?" His tone is cold, almost disinterested as if he has already been possessed by whatever spirits would speak through him.

"Can I always be with Kujo?" She forces the words to come out clear and easily, she doesn't want to sound as if she is in a panic about this question.

Suddenly his eyes roll and his body jerks backward as if he is a puppet whose strings have been yanked abruptly.

Victorique shivers in fright, but she knows that she can't leave. The Gray Wolves have foresight; he can tell her what will become of Kujo. She still isn't sure why she needs to know, or why she feels so strongly about Kujo, but she suspects she's finally beginning to learn about emotions that her brother claims she could never have.

Finally his strange jerking motions cease. The old man sits quietly and rigidly for several moments, almost as if testing her to see if she will run.

Victorique grits her teeth and stares at the man. She won't leave until she has her answer. She wants to know if she can have Kujo around to protect her forever.

While his body resumes its movements as if he has absolutely no control over it, the elder begins to speak. His tone is chilly, and somehow most calm, despite the strange quivering of his body. "You will not die together. Years from now when a storm rages across the world, you will be separated, bodies are light and easily blown apart. But you should not fear, your hearts will forever be as one."

The silence is eerie after the way the elder had been raging about in his chair. Feeling mute and numb, Victorique stands slowly. She is hardly aware that her hands are moments away from clenching into fists as she turns slowly and lifts the drape.

Her steps are steady and even as she makes her way between the pews and out of the church. She pauses as she steps outside; the elder's words are still ringing in her head. _You will not die together...Your hearts will never be apart._

She almost whispers Kujo's name in an attempt to try and relieve the pain rising up in her chest. Tears begin pooling in her eyes. Her gaze falls towards the ground in an attempt to hide them.

His voice interrupts her before she can speak, "Victorique, you came here too?" She doesn't look but hears him step closer, trying to come around and look at face, "What did you ask?"

As Victorique wipes the wetness from her eyes, she creates an answer that won't please him; she can't show her weakness in asking if they will be together. She puts on a resolute expression. "I asked if I would grow."

Kujo stares puzzled for a moment. She wonders if he thought she was going to say she'd asked the same question as him, she knew him too well to not expect him to answer that question, but he clearly didn't know her well enough to realize when she might be lying. "Grow? What do you mean?"

"My height." Victorique states simply.

Kujo bends over slightly as if trying to get a better look at her face, to see if she's really being serious. "Your height?"

Coolly, she turns to gaze at him, though she wonders if the tears are still visibly hiding in her eyes.

"What's with you?" He demands. Suddenly he gets angry, "You have no idea what I've – never mind!"He strikes an offended pose his hands on hips.

"Why are you so angry?" It seems inexplicable that he would be so upset, over her supposedly asking about her height. She hadn't thought he got angry quite that easily.

"I can't believe you left without saying a word!" Is his angry response, but she wonders if he's thinking about the question he wanted her to ask, "Where were you?"

Suddenly she wants to tell him her extra motive in leaving, she wants to tell him that she left, not only to study out the case and absolve her mother, but also to see if he really would find and protect her as he had promised. She wants to tell him, but she knows she doesn't have the words for it. The shame of such an admittance would be too much to bear.

Instead she simply says, "I was in the study."


	50. Falling Into So Many Things

050. Writer's Choice. Nap.

"Kujo what is this?" Victorique grumbled, as he led her along excitedly. He had woken her up at a ridiculous hour, only allowed her to put on normal clothes because she promised to dress quickly, then dragged her from her dollhouse home and was taking her to some unknown destination on the school grounds. Victorique was too tired to put pieces of Chaos together and figure out exactly where he was pulling her to.

"I have a surprise for you Victorique."

She was amazed he could sound so bright and awake when the sun was hardly even up, not that she usually slept particularly late, but usually the sun had been up for more than a few minutes. Grudgingly she let herself be dragged along; she was too curious to struggle much.

Kujo stopped in front the tree that they'd previously spent many days climbing. He'd laid out a blanket and it was covered with a spread of various forms of sweets.

Victorique stared wide-eyed, feeling awake for the first time that day.

"I thought you might like a picnic, seeing how bright and lovely the weather was going to be today."

"Kujo," Victorique murmured, speechless other than being able to speak his name.

Kujo grinned at her. "You like it?"

Finally something she knows how to respond to, she throws him a sulky glare, then whips her head away to face the opposite direction. She sniffs, showing him the question is beneath her notice.

"Oh come on Victorique, I did this for you. I got lots of sweets and everything."

Victorique almost started laughing, it was so funny how earnest he got sometimes. With a haughty air, she went and sat down on the blanket, spreading her skirts out neatly around her as she did so. "Fine, serve me."

"What?" Kujo practically shouted, sounding fairly dismayed.

Victorique glanced coolly back at him, laughing heartily on the inside. "Feed me sweets, if they're so wonderful, that is the purpose of this picnic isn't it?"

"Victorique," He moaned.

She crossed her arms. "It's the only way I'll stay for this picnic."

Kujo sighed, but almost miraculously, he knelt beside her and began arranging the sweets, so that it would be easier to feed her.

* * *

><p>Kujo smiled down at Victorique, he wasn't entirely sure how she had ended asleep in his lap, but it was a rather nice sensation. It was almost like she was as weightless as the doll she often appeared to be.<p>

He stroked her hair, enjoying its soft silkiness. He knew he had to take pleasure out of it now or he'd never get the chance again, Victorique most definitely wouldn't allow such a thing if she were awake. In fact if she woke up from this and realized what she'd done after her sugary picnic she'd probably angry and flushed with embarrassment, but for now she slept, and everything felt still and wonderful.

A light breeze picked up playing with Victorique's hair. Kujo smiled at the peacefulness of the moment, he didn't think he'd ever spent a happier moment with Victorique. It was nice to spend a quiet, restful moment with her, even if it only felt that way because she was asleep in his lap.

He closed his eyes and made himself more comfortable against the tree. His hand still resting lightly in Victorique's hair, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>Victorique was startled to find herself waking up. She hadn't thought she was <em>that<em> tired from Kujo waking her up so early. She was even more surprise to realize there was a faint pressure on the side of her head that wasn't pillowed against –

She sat up abruptly, the movement accompanied by a faint shriek, as her gaze confirmed exactly what her pillow had been. She'd been sleeping on Kujo's lap?

Kujo's eyes flickered open. "Victorique..." He whispered contentedly.

Victorique leapt to her feet, feeling an angry flush rising to her cheeks from her embarrassment. "I – I – I –" She stuttered unsure how to make any sort of excuse for this sort of behavior.

When she couldn't find the words she turned and fled.

"Victorique!" Kujo called after her, but she didn't dare look back, because she was afraid if she did she'd beg him to let her put her head in his lap again. She was terrified of what these emotions might mean.

She didn't stop running even as she reached the maze surrounding her dollhouse home. She knew the pathway by heart anyways, so she simply ran through it. She almost looked back to see if he was chasing her as she reached her door, but even if he had he was probably still lost somewhere within the maze. She threw the door open and almost tripped over her in her rush to hide. She slammed the door shut and slumped against it.

She couldn't stop the terrified beating of her heart, or the crazy emotions that accompanied it.

* * *

><p><strong>Well folks, that's the last prompt. Thanks to everybody who read this all the way to the end, especially James Birdsong, for reviewing practically every single chapter for me along the way :) Expect more Gosick stories from me, just not here. :)<strong>


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